In Twilight's Wake
by Sullen Siren
Summary: Buffy and company meet a slayer turned vampire whom Spike and Angel are already very familiar with.  (Now Complete!)
1. Twilight Meeting

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Buffy or Angel characters or anything else associated with them, except for Katerina, who's a product of my limited imagination. The rest of the crew belong to Joss Whedon and company, who have my undying envy.**   
  


### **Prologue:**

### **Twilight Meeting**

###### "Time cools; time clarifies; no mood can be maintained quite unaltered through the course of hours." 

###### --Thomas Mann

  
  


The graveyard was alive with an aura of expectancy. Cloaked in shadow and silence, its deadly stillness seemed to be out of place. In it's center stood a golden powerhouse of broiling emotions, her head tilted to the side, her eyes wide and alert. She was waiting. She was unsettled. Dust from a recently dispatched vampire still hung in the air, she ignored it and studied her surroundings. Something was not right. She whirled at a rustling of leaves behind her and lashed out with her right leg in a stunning roundhouse kick. She connected with a satisfying thud and her target flew briefly backward. Buffy followed his flight and met a pair of brown eyes she hadn't seen for nearly a year. "Angel." 

He smiled softly at her, the same crooked smile that had always forced her heart to speed it's beat. "Buffy. You're looking . . . . . accurate." He rubbed ruefully at his chest and gave a theatrical wince.. 

Buffy forcibly closed her gaping mouth and glared at him. "So what now, you've taken to haunting around MY cemetery to check up on me? How many times do I have to tell you I don't NEED to be rescued, I'm a big girl, I take care of my-" 

"Buffy!" Angel forcibly interrupted her tirade with a slight smile. "I'm not checking up on you. I'm not even here to see you." Seeing her narrowed gaze at that statement he quickly amended it. "Not that I'm not happy to see you!" 

"Oh, so you run all the way to Sunnydale from big bad LA, check into one of my regular patrol areas in the middle of the night, and then pretend you're surprised to see me? And what's up with the skulking? Most people would have come out and said 'hey, how are you, need some help with that pesky vamp?' but not you, you lurk in the bushes and watch then jump out and look shocked when I kick your lights out!" 

Angel sighed. "Well, I guess it doesn't sound all that plausible when you put it that way, but I'm really not here for you Buffy. I'm not surprised you're here, you always were good at your job. But I have other business to take care of." He spared a glance for her, blonde hair tousled from her fight, leather clad legs still in fighting stance, purple tank top slightly askew. "You look . . . . . . good, Buffy." 

She finally relaxed her ready stance, automatically reaching to adjust her hair. "Thanks, so do you. Still pale and broody, but good." 

He smiled. She was tougher than she had been last time they'd met. "Yeah, I've been meaning to get some sun, haven't gotten around to it yet." 

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment before Buffy remembered Angel wasn't supposed to be here. "So if you're not here to warn me of some imminent approaching evil, what are you here for?" 

"Here's here to see me, luv. Jealous?" Angel and Buffy both whirled at the intrusive voice. "Quite the reunion we have here, I'm almost teary." 

Buffy and Angel spoke in irritated unison "Shut UP Spike." 

Spike took a drag from his cigarette before flicking it carelessly to the ground at Angel's feet. The moonlight reflecting off the mausoleum he stood next to turned his platinum hair to a grayish color. "Angel here came running to chat about a little love note from the past that I suspect he got in his mail bag as well. Isn't that right, ya big cupid?" 

Angel leaped forward and pinned Spike against the mausoleum wall with one hand, his other holding a stake at his chest. "Where is she?" His voice was rough, angry . . . and a little worried. Buffy stared at him, irritation becoming concern. 

"Angel, what is going on? Who is 'She'? What are you doing here? And why would you be looking for SPIKE?" Her voice was tinged with disgust as she spoke the blonde vampire's name. Spike shook himself free of Angel's grip and adjusted his ever present leather coat. "I'm hurt luv, really I am. Why wouldn't Angel come to see his old buddy Spike?" 

Buffy gave him an irritated glance. "Because he hates you Spike, just like everyone else who's ever had the displeasure of meeting you." She returned her attention to Angel, who was avoiding her gaze. "WHAT is going on Angel!" She wasn't asking now, she was demanding, and Angel knew it. She had a right to demand the truth. She was very involved, even if she didn't know it yet. 

Angel stepped forward, putting the stake back somewhere in the recesses of his jacket. "Buffy, gather everyone together at Giles. I've got Cordelia and Wesley with me. I'd rather not have to tell this story more than once, and it concerns Giles too." He threw a hard look at Spike. "Go with her. And make sure you make it to Giles, or you won't like what happens when I find you again. 

"I'm real scared mate." Spike sneered, but made no move to leave. 

Buffy hesitated, than nodded. "Alright. I'll meet you at Giles in twenty minutes. But this better be good." She hesitated again. "Angel . . . .. should I bring-" 

Angel interrupted "Bring him, if you can control him. If he's a loose cannon we all might be better off without him." 

"Riley does NOT need to be 'controlled'!" Buffy bristled at him. "And I'm bringing him. He's been a help many times to us. And he deserves to be brought into whatever the hell this is." With that she turned and left, Spike tagging along after her. 

Angel watched them for a moment, his thoughts and emotions in a bit of a turmoil. He'd been alive too long to flit from love to love. Buffy was, truthfully, his first and only love. And a part of him would always believe her to be his. He'd known Spike too long to not see that Spike's feelings for the petite slayer were decidedly mixed. And THAT was going to drive him crazy, if he thought about it too long. He smiled to himself a moment. Spike had always like strong women. He didn't think Buffy would ever return the vampire's affection, the girl did have some standards, but he really wasn't much happier with her current boyfriend. The former military lab rat just seemed unstable to Angel, who had heard quite a bit about him in long phone conversations with Giles. 

As Buffy and her platinum-headed follower disappeared from sight, Angel turned with a sigh and began to head back toward the coffee place where'd he left Cordy and Wesley. He wasn't looking forward to explaining what was going on. It may not be his fault, but he was involved. He didn't think Buffy would take kindly to that. And then there was Giles and Wesley, who may be in danger . .. . or not. He cursed beneath his breath and hurried a bit. God he wished he knew a little bit more. 

As Angel hurried toward the waiting Cordy and Wesley, a pair of swirling silver eyes watched him go. They were odd eyes, the figure of the creature they belonged to cloaked in deepest shadow, but those silver eyes glowing like earthbound moons. They watched Angel in silence, until he too disappeared from sight. They closed a moment, a soft sigh, easily mistaken for an errant brush of wind, sounded, the eyes opened once more, blinked, and were gone. 


	2. That Which Was

  
  


### ******Part One:**

### **That Which Was**

###### "Unless we remember we cannot understand." 

###### -- Edward M. Forster 

  
  


Giles sat and surveyed the motley crew assembled in his living room. If anybody had told him a few years ago, a few days ago even, that he, a Watcher, would be sitting in a room with a slayer, two vampires, two witches, a half-demon, a former demon, a soldier, another watcher, an actress, and a . . .. Xander, he would have laughed it off, it sounded like the beginning of a particularly lame joke. He sighed heavily, making a mental note to try to put Anya and Cordelia in different groups, should the need for splitting up come up. 

Buffy was perched on a stool, carefully distancing herself from both Angel and Riley, staying close to Willow and Tara instead. Angel's face was impassive, as always, but Riley looked slightly bewildered and hurt, his eyes turning resentful whenever they settled on Angel. Spike lounged on the couch, ignoring everyone, concentrating on the television, which Xander kept muting, despite Spike's loud objections. 

No one seemed to want to speak up, though the initial reunion of old friends, and the meeting of new ones had been quite noisy, now the noise had faded to an awkward silence, punctuated by occasional bouts of noise as Spike once again turned the volume on. Finally, with typical grace, Cordelia broke the quiet. "Geez Angel, you drive us all the way back to Sunnydale, a place I was studiously trying to avoid, all so you can talk to Buffy and Spike and Giles about some 'mysterious thing' you didn't see fit to let me and Wesley in on. So now we're here and you stand there like a big dope. So talk! I'm very quickly getting fed up with sitting here." 

Xander grinned at his ex girlfriend. "Some things never change, all hail the princess of tact." 

"Oh shut up Xander, at least I wasn't sitting there wrestling with Spike for the remote control like a big loser." 

"Children!" Giles interrupted what promised to be a long and pointless exchange. "Whatever Angel came here for, we're not going to hear it if your squabbling. So do be quiet. You're giving me a headache. 

Buffy sat up and stared at Angel, Spike gave up on the TV and came to stand next to her stool, a vague _proprietary_ aura about him that had both Riley and Angel scowling. Buffy intercepted Angel's scowl and raised an eyebrow at him. "So?" 

Angel sighed, slumped unto the back of the sofa, and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a long story . . . . " 

Spike rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, you make things so hard. Yeah, it's a long story, but why don't you tell the short version. I'll do it for you." He turned to face Buffy, pretty much ignoring the rest of them. "Seven hundred years ago a slay-" 

"Spike! I'll tell it my own damn way. You don't know what your talking about, so just be quiet!" Angel was obviously furious at having his story taken away from him. He began quickly, in case Spike tried to butt in. "A few days ago I, and I suppose Spike, got a note. All it said was 'Old Friends are Hard to Find. Hello Angelus. I found you, come find me.' It wasn't signed, but I know who it's from" 

"WHO?!" Buffy asked, completely out of patience. 

Spike once again interrupted, though this time Buffy rather welcomed the interruption. "It's a note from the Slayer who came before you, luv. Long before you. A slayer turned vampire." His voice quieted slightly. "Her name is Katerina. People call her Kat." 

Angel glanced at Spike for a moment, sharing his thoughts. "But history, and some rather obscure Watcher books called her Twilight." 

"I've read her, or I mean I've read about her. I haven't actually read her. She's not real though! Or at least she's not supposed to be, but then again neither was the Gem of Amara, and that turned out to be real enough so I guess. . . . " Willow cut herself off as she saw everyone staring at her. She cleared her throat and smiled nervously. "Well, anyway, I did read about her. She could be a scary thing, if it's all true." 

"It's not!" Spike was emphatic. "Nothing they said about her was." 

"How do you know? You weren't even alive when she was turned!" Xander was curious why the vampire was so protective of this girl . .. slayer . .. vampire . .. whatever. 

"Because I know, alright? She told me." 

"She could have lied." 

Angel interrupted before Spike could say anything. "She doesn't lie. Spike's right, the history books are wrong." He turned to Giles and Wesley. "What do you two know about the supposed Watcher wars?" 

Giles paled slightly, Wesley narrowed his gaze and thought a moment before answering. "Not much actually. I only began reading about it just prior to my dismissal from the Council, and information about them are difficult to find outside of the Council library. Why?" 

Giles shook his head and walked toward the bookshelf, pulling out an old book with a faded red leather cover. "I know enough to know I don't know anything. The council destroyed most evidence of their . . . less than savory acts, the Watcher Wars are all but erased from their records. Asking questions about the few facts that remain in the records about them will get you very quickly dismissed." 

Willow raised her hand to ask a question, Giles saw her out of the corner of his eye. "Oh for heaven's sake Willow, this isn't a classroom, speak your mind." 

Willow flushed and stammered a bit as she spoke. "I remember reading about something called 'The wars of those who watched, and those they watched.' in something, though I can't remember what. The footnote called it the Watcher Wars. It didn't say what it was though. I remember a line that said something about 'and with them rode the eternal Twilight.' They weren't related to the stories I've read about the mythic slayer/vampire named Twilight though." 

Giles nodded at her, as Buffy spoke up. "What were the Watcher Wars then? And what does this Twilight have to do with them?" 

Giles sighed and leaned against the bookcase. "The Watcher Wars were . .. a dark time in the Council's history. A time they prefer not to speak of. When the council first began, it was founded by powerful wizards, warlocks, sorceresses, even a few of the more humanity friendly demons. The most powerful people uniting to help the slayer, that was the council's original aim. But along the way, things got . . changed. Somehow the council discovered the secret of calling multiple slayers into duty at the same time. The result became watchers taking slayers as their "pets" Training these girls to do their bidding. They would wield them against kings, queens, merchants -anyone with power or money- like trained guard dogs. If they failed to pay a Watcher's protection fees, then he would send his slayer to destroy them. Eventually the slayers rebelled, led by a vampiric slayer named Twilight." Giles glanced at Buffy. "We don't know much about her, only that when she began the rebellion, there were over thirty active slayers alive. She was the best of them, the most feared slayer of her time." He looked toward Angel and then at Spike. "The Watcher council claims that she was turned by a nameless vampire, and the council had to unite to destroy her because the slayers were too busy revolting to do their job. Somehow, I doubt that's the case. That's all I know." He took his glasses off and absently cleaned them with his shirt collar. "That's all they let us know." 

Angel nodded. "That's partially right, but it's a much longer story. When Kat was-" 

A new voice sounded from the doorway. "Angelus, you shouldn't tell someone else's story for them. You're apt to get the details all wrong." Everyone leapt to attention, a stake instantly coming to Buffy's hand, Spike and Angel whirling somewhat slower, a look of worry, perhaps even fear in Angel's eyes, and pure joy in Spike's. 

A small figure stood in the doorway. Huge silver eyes stared out of a small, pale face surrounded by a floating sea of wild nearly blue black hair. She was tiny, five feet maybe, and slender built, she looked like a frail, fragile child, until you met those eyes. Her gaze was that of a hunter, assessing, cool, powerful. Buffy stared at her and instantly saw something of herself in the small figure. The girl stepped forward into the room, her movements graceful, vaguely predatory. 

"But! She's a vampire, and no one invited her. Did you invite her Giles? She can't be in here. Go back out, you can't be in here!" Willow seemed unusually upset over a little thing, considering the circumstances. 

Spike laughed and leapt forward. "Bollocks! The normal rules don't apply here, do they Kitten?" He flung his arms around her and swung her around in a warm embrace. "I tried to find you Kitten, where'd he hide you? We didn't know what would happen when Buffy killed him, we hoped you'd wake up, but couldn't find you!" 

The girl smiled and hugged Spike back. "We who? You and Drusilla? Oh yeah, I'll buy that one. Dru wouldn't want me to wake up, and would rather dig out her own eyes that try to find me." 

Spike grinned. "Okay, so maybe it was just me trying to find you. Where've you been?" 

"In hiding, trying to adjust to this world. After all, there weren't any computers, multiplexes, or microwaves last time I was awake." Her voice was odd, it held strange echoes and seemed to carry traces of many accents, yet settle on having none at all. Her silver eyes turned to Angel, who stood warily nearby. "You don't seem happy to see me Angelus, or Angel now, isn't it?" Her eyes flicked about the room, lingering on Buffy. "And neither do your friends. Why don't you introduce us?" 

Angel stared at her a moment. "I'm not sure if I want to. How are you Kat, any latent violent tendencies coming to the forefront?" 

The girl seemed surprised by the question, than suddenly began to laugh, the rich and throaty sound bringing another grin to Spike's face. "Is that what's got you so worried? That silly rumor?" 

"So it's not true?" 

She sobered a bit and looked at Angel. "No, it's not. The Master's spell didn't rob me of my soul when he died, or "awaken the beast within" or whatever such nonsense the Watcher's Council began to spread when I disappeared." She glanced at Buffy, than at Giles, and Wesley. "I mean none of your friends harm. The Watcher's Council is still an organization that does many things wrong, but these are not the cause of that." She grinned slyly. "Isn't that right, Rupert? Or how about you, Wesley?" She stared at Angel, her eyes darkening, her expression suddenly somber. "That's not all that has you worried, is it?" Her eyes lowered a moment. "I'm sorry, I thought you'd be happy to see me. Perhaps I was wrong." 

Angel snorted in annoyance. "Oh don't give me that beaten dog act Kat, that stopped working on me the first time you knocked me on my ass while wearing that face. You knew very well I didn't want to come back to Sunnydale, and you knew I would be worried. You just wanted to play. You always had a tendency to alarm others for your own amusement." 

Kat made a face. "At least I HAVE a sense of humor. I expect your face to crack whenever you smile." 

Spike burst into laughter at that, even Giles smiled a bit. Buffy however, was thoroughly fed up. "Alright, that's enough. This, I take it, is the infamous Twilight. Someone, however, is going to tell me WHAT she's doing here, HOW she got in without being invited, and WHAT you all are talking about, and your going to tell me RIGHT NOW." 

Spike raised an eyebrow, "Demanding little bugger, isn't she?" He asked Kat in a loud whisper. 

Buffy raised her stake threateningly, looking completely exasperated. Kat raised a hand to quell her. "It's alright Buffy. I'll be happy to answer any questions you have, just calm down and listen. I bear you no malice." Spike walked over and plopped back onto the sofa, pulling Kat down on his lap. She gave him a quick glare and elbowed him in the ribs, standing up to perch on the arm instead. 

"What do you want to know again? Ahh yes." Kat's voice held a slight purr, like the beast her name resembled. "I am here because I wanted to see some old friends, and also because I wanted to meet the current slayer . .. although I understand there's more than one. How that happened I'd like to hear sometime. How I got in here is unclear, even I don't really understand. It's tied into a very long story that I'm sure you'll want to be bored by in a moment." She smiled. "Does that cover your questions you want answered right now?" 

Buffy hesitated. "Yes . .. . but I want to hear it all. And I also want to know why Angel's so worried." 

Angel started to say something but Kat quieted him with a look. "All in good time. There are serious things afoot, but to arm yourself for the future, you should first understand the past." She quieted a moment as everyone settled into seats, looking at her expectantly, with a deep breath, Katerina Twilight began to tell her life story, though not in words. Suddenly a life not there own began to unfold in the minds of all those in the room. They saw scenes from a time long ago, and faces long since dead and returned to the dust they came from, and through it all the heard Kat's voice, narrating and showing them a world they knew only through history books.   
  


_I lost track of time long ago, but I was born somewhere in the neighborhood of seven hundred years or so ago, give or take a few decades. I was born a slayer into a world of vampires, and killers. Slayers were ruled with an iron fist by a Watcher's Council gone corrupt, and viscous. Founded with the intention of aiding the slayer in her attempts to control the evil of the world, the Council had wandered far from it's roots. A powerful wizard joined the Council, and together with some of the other powerful casters, invented a spell that would raise more than one slayer at a time. The intention of the spell was to call additional slayers who could fight from different parts of the world, however, the spell was discovered by some of the less . . . . charitable members of the Council, and the spell quickly became a means of raising one's status within the Council. They would cast the spell, locate the girl with another spell, and then take her, training her to be obedient only to him, and to be ignorant of everything except what he decided she was allowed to know. _

_In the beginning, only one or two councilman did this, than gradually it became the norm, rather than the exception. When I was born, the council was made up of around 50 men, women were no longer allowed, and of those some 40 kept active slayers. Some were scattered throughout the world, we had one in China I believe, and one in America. But most of them were centered in Europe. The Watcher's had branched out from simple extortion to darker things. Many had aspirations of world domination on the strength of their slayers. _

_My Watcher's name was Stephan. He was low on the Council's hierarchy. He already had a slayer serving him, a young red headed girl called Gabrina. She was mostly the reason for his low status. He was powerful himself, a conjurer of great strength and ingenuity. He had found Gabrina and trained her before he realized that, though she was still a slayer, she was weak. Not very bright, and a little timid, Gabrina was destined for an early death. Stephan knew it, and was none too pleased. He began work on a spell that would not only call another slayer, but would isolate the most powerful one amongst all those girls who had the dormant call. _

_The result was me. I was barely out of infancy and remember nothing of him coming to claim me. He raised me and trained me to be the ultimate perfect, obedient little slayer. He told me that my powers were rooted in evil, and came from the demon within me. He said that I was kindred with the vampires I killed, and that only his power, and my obedience, kept the evil within me at bay. He taught me to fear the power within me . . . . and to look to him as a savior. He told me that he had taken me from my home to help me, because the village was going to kill me. He told me that I had killed my own parents barely hours after my birth. Years later I learned the truth, that HE had killed my true parents, so that there would be no one left who knew who I was. Around the same time I learned that to train a slayer to believe she was evil was a standard practice for the council. _

_Stephan taught me that my true name was Katerina, but that I must never reveal that name to anyone, or it would give them the power to release the demon within me. He began calling me Twilight, the name that would eventually become my own._

_Gabrina died when I was barely seven years old. She was only 15. Stephan told me that she was weak, and disobedient, and that she had earned her fate. He said that because she had failed him, he had been unable to save her from the darkness within her, and she had died in sin, destined to burn in hell. Gabrina had been my only friend, and when he told me that she had been evil and weak and doomed, I began, for the first time, to doubt him. _

_I began active slayer duty then, at only seven years old. I was never given a chance to be a child, and by the time I turned ten, I had seen more carnage and death than most people ever see. Stephan had risen to nearly the top of Council, and was highly pleased. At his orders I had slaughtered several slayers, those he told me had gone rogue and given in to the demon within them. The kernel of doubt I had begun the day Gabrina died resurfaced again and again, but Stephan was all I knew, and I did as I was told. I did things at his order than still haunt me. Done under the guise of ignorance, the fault for those things still rests on my shoulders, and I will always feel their weight. _

_Stephan's first and last mistake came when I was ten years old. An old woman lived in a nearby village. She was a powerful healer and a seer, and had come in useful to Stephan on more than one occasion, so he allowed her to live. Most powerful people, or creatures were either destroyed or banished, this woman was the exception. Many times he sent me to her for a quicker healing, or a reading of the runes, but always with him at my side, never alone. Finally one night, loathe to leave his research, for a healing. I would have healed quickly enough, but Stephan wanted me healthy for a raid on another slayer the next day, so he sent me to her for quicker healing. It was the first time I'd ever been sent there alone, and I sensed a difference in the woman as soon as I stepped through the door to her tattered old hut._

_The old woman's name was unknown, though everyone called her Aggie. As I stood there, my arm held limp and broken in front of me, my body covered with bruises, she studied me. Her gaze held power I had never seen, not even in Stephan. She asked me where my Watcher was, and when I told her I was alone, she seemed to transform before my eyes. The change wasn't physical, but suddenly where before had stood a tired old woman there now stood a wise and ancient sorceress. She handed me a potion and watched as I drank it. I felt myself healing almost immediately. I turned to go, thanking her never occurring to me. I hadn't been taught anything of life outside of combat and obedience, even basic manners eluded me. She stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, and a sentence in my ear. Her voice was old and cracked in odd ways, but I sensed truth in her words. She told me, "he does not protect you child, he destroys you." _

_I asked her what she meant, and she said only that I already knew. I was confused and afraid, and I fled her hut, but I couldn't escape the last thing she said. "Men lie child. In dreams and darkness, there is your truth. Dream, and remember." _

_That night I slept like the dead . . . . excuse the pun. And I dreamed of the beginning of the council. I dreamed of their fall, their corruption, and of the slayers who had gone from hunters to victims. I dreamed of Stephan, and saw his motives and what he truly was. And when I woke up, I remembered, and I believed. For the first time in my life I left without Stephan's permission or order. I went to the old woman's hut and I told her what I had dreamed. She told me that it was all true, and she told me the truth of where I came from, and what Stephan had done to my parents. As I listened I became more and more angry. Anger was new to me, I had always been trained to control not only my actions but my emotions too, and the fury welling up inside me was exciting, potent, and frightening. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and leapt to my feet with the growl of a predator, deep and animalistic. Aggie stared at me a moment. "What are you going to do?" _

_I told her that I was going to kill him, and she stopped me again, with a hand on my arm and asked what good it would do. I didn't understand. Killing was easy to me, there had never been consequences. I didn't understand that it would be different this time, because the kill had been MY choice, MY decision. I also didn't understand that the consequences of those kills would catch up to me in time. _

_"There are greater things in your future than a rampage of revenging death before being hunted down by the other slayers at the bidding of their Watchers. You will lead them out of the darkness." She smiled then, revealing teeth I really would rather not have seen. "You were misnamed child, you are not the last light before the dark, but the dawn after a long midnight. But you are named, and it is yours. I will teach you, I will make you stronger than you ever imagined. I will give you the strength to do what must be done. And you will give me the one thing I've searched for throughout my long life. You will give me hope."_

_Aggie took me away to an isolate place that I could never have found again if you paid me. I half suspected it wasn't even on this world. Using arts that I hadn't even suspected she possessed, Aggie kept Stephan from finding me, and I stayed with her for five years, learning the arts of magic. Illusion, conjuring, summoning, I learned it all. I also learned how to read and write, how to fight with more than just my body, how to use my mind and my cunning as well. I studied the art of War from ancient books in foreign languages. Five years passed on the outside, and I grew five years older, but within the meadow our hut was in, time had no meaning. I was there for a day, a week , or a century, learning what I needed to know. _

_Finally came a day when I knew what I wanted, and had, to do. Aggie knew before I told her. She told me that she had been waiting. She gave me many things, some magical, some not, to take with me, and surprised us both by hugging me goodbye. Than she waved a hand in the air and murmured the words of a transport spell. Suddenly she disappeared and I was standing in the ruins of what had once been Aggie's old hut, where she and I had first met. In the distance I could see Stephan's house, still huge and imposing. And I sensed his presence, and the presence of the new child he had taken as his slayer. A strong child, not as strong as I had been perhaps, but strong enough to be a problem._

_A part of me, the part I had worked so hard to learn to suppress, longed to go there, to destroy Stephan and take the child away from him. But the rest of me knew that it was too soon. Stephan was strong, and his slayer would aid him, if I attempted to kill him now. So I left, hoping to avoid either the slayer or her Watcher sensing my presence._

_That night I prepared a spell, one of the strongest of those Aggie and I had created. Using the spell I was able to connect with the minds of all of the active slayers. I used it to send them the vision Aggie had shown me, and to call them to come and join me. It was a call to arms, simple and straightforward. I prayed that they would answer, but I suspected it would take more than a simple dream. _

_I was both right and wrong. Several joined me, but they were young, and the strongest of the slayers stayed with their watcher's, too old and tamed to leave. With the slayers came others, young and full of potential, but still untrained. As I watched them, I began to understand what I truly needed to do. With ones such as these, I would rebuild the watcher's council, and restore it to what it had begun as._

_Years went by with little true success. For every slayer who went to our side, another was called, and the cycle began again. The watchers began to use the infant slayers they called to replace their errant girls as hostages. No matter how we searched, we couldn't find a counter spell that would prevent them from calling more slayers. I watched many, slayers and regular humans alike die, and it seemed that it was for nothing, as no real progress had been made. And as we waged our war, the war we had been called to fight, the war against vampires and other such evils, were left unfinished. It was the darkest time in the history of the Council, and of the slayers. But it was a golden age for vampires and demons and other such horrors. _

_The Council sent thousands of assassination attempts against me, both mundane and magical. They all failed, but I came to the realization that should one succeed, all we had worked for, and all hope of future victory were finished. I had tried to train one to follow me, but I hadn't the time, and I had no one with the inclination to lead. I was twenty years old now, and faced with the fact that should time continue to march onward for me, I would grow slower, and eventually I would be too slow, and I would die. I couldn't afford that, I couldn't afford to lose the flush of youth, it was one of our only advantages. The slayer's resistance would fall apart if I died. An arrogant assumption on my part, it seems, but it was the truth. The younger girls hadn't the training or experience, and the older ones had been under a Watcher's rule for so long they no longer knew how to make decisions for themselves. Without me, all our efforts were doomed and all the pain and death would have been for nothing._

_It was another year before I came to the realization that I had to do something. I searched endlessly for a spell to end the production of new slayers, and for a way to stop my own aging until the war was over. I wasn't successful. Another year had brought me no closer to ending the war, and I had no options left. I did the only thing I could think of. _

_In that time, most vampires lived in family groups. They hunted together and did the bidding of the oldest of them, the one who had indirectly spawned them all. Most such groups did all they could to ensure the continuation of the Watchers' Wars. One did not. Led by a vampire called simply the Master, this group took their cue from their leader. He was very selective in who was admitted into his family, and loathed the majority of other vampires, his own clan aside. He wished an end to the war, so that slayers would again weed out the ranks of unworthy vampires. His arrogance, and power, prevented him from worrying about the slayers eliminating him or his. His clan traveled a bit, but most of them were based near my former home, and in my youth I had encountered fledgling and younger members of it several times. Those meetings always ended with a pile of dust, or a rapidly fleeing vampire. Each of those had been random encounters and quick dusts. Never had I been sent after either the master or his more powerful servants. It hadn't occurred to me to wonder why all those years ago. Now I knew Stephan was most likely being paid to look the other way._

_Now though, I left again for the place I had grown up, leaving a young slayer named Rose in charge, ordering here to take as little action as possible to maintain where we were. I went back home, though I'd never thought of it as such, to where Stephan and his young slayer still lived. And nearby I found what I was looking for, the Master's nest._

_The place was ridiculously poorly guarded. I found it's center, and it's heart, with ease. I wasn't sure what to expect. I had heard little of The Master other than that he was inhuman looking and very intelligent. He, however, knew me very well. Both by sight and reputation, and he welcomed me with enthusiasm, and without a hint of fear. I was fighting a war against my instincts, which were crawling with the desire to stake not only him but the dozens of minions who were slowly emerging from the shadows. Instead I spread my open hands, showing him that I was weaponless. He waved his family away and asked, in an insanely polite voice, what he could do for me. I told him that I wanted to be Changed. _

_Changing a slayer was not a new concept. It had been tried several times, with disastrous results. I knew of only three at the time, as I hadn't had access to the Council's library. The first had been young, only eight years old when she was called. She had been turned by a young vampire. They say that the two demons within her, that of the slayer and the vampire, warred for three days, driving her to madness and an impossible pain within her own head. On the third day she drove a stake through her own heart. It was assumed that the vampire demon had been unable to conquer the slayer within because her sire had been relatively weak. The next slayer was older, and well trained, strong in her gifts. But she was tired after an endless battle with a seemingly endless number of vampires. She was weary and tired of fighting when at last a master vampire came forward to fight her. She lost, and rather than kill her he turned her. The result was a slower descent into insanity, and eventual catatonia. Her maker staked her when she ceased to move or speak. The last had been recent, and the most chilling. Madness came quickly, but death came slowly, and before it claimed her she had killed nearly a hundred creatures, some vampires, some human. It took nearly twenty vampires to destroy her. It seemed that the instincts and power that created a slayer could not co-exist with the demon within a vampire. _

_It was a chance I had to take. I was strong, stronger than all other living slayers, and most likely stronger than most that had gone before me. And I was willing. It was a narrow chance, but I thought that it might make a difference. The other girls had been turned without their permission. Forced to coexist with the demon. I was willing, and I knew more about myself than most people. I knew that many people lost their soul without ever becoming a vampire. I thought perhaps, it was possible to become one and keep it still. It was a desperate choice, but the only one I could make. _

_I had managed to surprise him. He asked what I would offer in return. I promised him that should I survive, and should the slayers win our war, I would promise him and his family immunity for 100 years. I expected him to at least haggle, but he didn't. Instead he motioned me toward him, and I felt his eyes on my neck. Everything within me screamed to run, to fight, to do ANYTHING except walk toward him, pulling my hair to one side. He offered his hand and I clasped it. "Partners then. United in a common cause." I nodded in response, and then I felt a sharp pain, and my life draining away. I felt myself slipping away when suddenly he loomed over me, his face hazy and uncertain in my delirium. "No turning back brave little slayer. Drink or die." He scraped a tiny dagger across his wrist and held it to my face. I cried a bit, for the first time in my life, and began to feed. _

_It was revolting and intoxicating, all at the same time, and as I drew from him I felt myself regaining my strength, and then I felt myself becoming more than I had been, a stronger creature. And then I began to feel a part of myself leaving. I felt my concerns for the war, my loyalty to my slayers, all of that slipping away. I drew harder on his wrist as he began trying to pull it away, and at the same time I REACHED. I pulled at myself with all the power of my well trained mind and suddenly I was me again, but a new version of me. I let go of his wrist, he collapsed to his knees, staring at me in something akin to wonder and close to fear. I threw back my head and clung to the truth of what I was, sweating and writhing with the pain of it. The demon swam wildly through my mind, demanding release and control. Slowly I began to overpower it. It felt like hours, but was in truth only moments before I looked up, gasping for air and trembling in exhaustion. But I was me, and the demon was secure within. For the first time I understood what a true evil was, and at last realized what I had known for so many years. I was NOT a demon. I was a slayer, and they were NOT the same. Or at least I had been. Now I didn't know what I was. But I knew that I was ME, and that I had a soul. The other, the demon would always be there, waiting for me to drop my guard. But I had won, I retained my soul. As the Master and his other children watched, I laughed, honest laughter without a hint of madness._

_The Master smiled back at me. "It worked!" Again I saw that look of awe and fear in his eyes. I knew then, without a doubt, that in 100 years I wouldn't hesitate to destroy him. I saw, also, that for the first time since I'd walked into his nest, The Master believed I was capable of ending his long life, or un-life. But for now, we were as he had said, united in a common cause. _

_I left that night, and went to the house of my former Watcher. I stood outside his house, considering my options. I had forgotten I wouldn't be able to go inside. Frustrated, I reached for the door and swung it open, sliding my arm into the doorway in the process. I frowned when I met no resistance and stepped forward, moving slowly until I realized that there was nothing stopping me. This was when I first began to realize that I was more than what I had thought I was. I touched a cross on the wall by the doorway, expecting my hand to sizzle, but there was nothing. I began to understand. My slayer blood had mixed with the vampire in a way that was unheard of. I had the strengths of a slayer and a vampire, and none of their weaknesses . .. . or at least none so far. My discoveries were interrupted by a noise. I looked up, ashamed to be caught standing unaware, something I hadn't done since childhood. Before me stood a very pretty petite brunette girl, a stake in one hand, a cross in the other. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, my hand still lingering on the cross. "But you're a vampire . . . ." she was confused and a little afraid. But I sensed something else in her. A desire for escape. I recognized it, because it was what I had been, living under Stephan's rule. _

_"What is your name?" I asked her, watching her carefully. She was young still. Fifteen or so perhaps a bit older. _

_"Lenore." She was beginning to remember who she was . . . . and what I was. I wanted that to stop. I didn't want to have to fight her, and wanted even less to be forced to kill her._

_"Do you know who I am Lenore?" She shook her head, taking a step toward me, still uncertain, but trusting the instincts that told her I was a vampire. "I am a slayer, like you. I used to live here. You sleep in the room in the attic right? The one with the blue stained glass window looking out from the front. My name is Katerina. Some people call me Twilight."_

_She gasped, halting in place. "You lead the slayers! You're the one Stephan said betrayed him and is trying to kill the Council!" _

_I looked at her carefully. "Do you believe him?"_

_She shook her head slowly. "Stephan . .. . I think he is a bad man." She hesitated a moment, than her lips thinned into a face of resolve. "I KNOW he is bad. Evil even. I met a slayer a few months ago, she was named Sabine, or something like that." I nodded. I knew her, she had joined us not long ago. "She told me about what the Watchers had done. She wanted me to come join you . . . but I didn't. I was afraid." _

_"Afraid of the war . . . . or Stephan?" _

_"Stephan. Fighting, dying, I've lived under those threats all my life. They hold no terror for me. But Stephan . ... Stephan can make death last for years if he wants." She shuddered slightly. "Are you going to kill him?"_

_I looked at her, seeing her expression. It was filled with eagerness, tinged with guilt, and a little anger. "Are you going to stop me?" _

_She shook her head vehemently. "No . . . . but I'm not going to help you either." _

_She was almost shaking, and in her I sensed an eagerness to kill. "Why not?"_

_She met my eyes then, and I saw how old she was in spirit. I knew she would not last much longer, she was already dying. Most slayers held on a few years longer before their spirits began to go dead. Hers was already well on its way. "Because I want to. I want to see him dead so badly. My body aches with it, it's all I ever think about. That's why I can't. I can't let that part of me win." She looked away._

_I nodded at her, and she left without a word. Both of us knew what she would do. Find a nice nest or group of vampires and attack. And then die. She was finished, and she knew it. I wanted to say something to her, but I had seen that look so many times, nothing could change it. She would die doing what she had been born to do. No one could stop it. Her spirit was too weary of this world to continue living in it. So I let her go, silently bidding her farewell. _

_I began making my way up the stairs, silently moving toward the man who had set my feet on this path so many years ago. Because of him I was called into duty, because of him I became a slayer, and because of him I became a leader of an army of others like me. Indirectly perhaps, but still he had begun it. And as I looked within myself, I found none of the eagerness Lenore had been so afraid of. Instead I found resignation and a strange sense of completion, and somehow I found that comforting._

_I moved through the eerily familiar house. Nothing had been changed, or moved, it felt as if I was a child again, about be punished for a mistake made. Almost unconsciously one hand slid up my back, as if to feel the long thin scars I knew were there. Remnants of my youth, and the frequent whippings Stephan had deemed necessary to controlling the demon within me. Avoiding the squeaking second step, I came to the top of the stairs, and came eye to eye with Stephan. _

_He stood frozen, his eyes locked on me. His gaze was blank and lacked recognition for a moment, then his gaze changed to one of fearful disbelief. He looked absurd, slippered feet and a long nightshirt. For a moment I hesitated, wondering if maybe I had made this man into more of a monster than he was. Maybe my childhood memories were false. Then his face changed, and his hands rose into the air. His eyes filled with fury and he began hissing the words to a spell I'd heard a hundred times. A spell to summon a fire demon that would attack until it's victim was dead, then disappear. For the right to summon the elemental demon, a newborn boy had to be sacrificed on the new moon in winter once every five years. I remembered then what Stephan was, saw the hate and horror on his face. I leapt forward, moving faster than even I had dreamed was possible. And with barely an effort kicked his legs out from underneath him, grabbed his head and twisted it harshly, his neck snapping. He fell limply to the floor, and I stood, half stunned. It was over, and so easily. The monster had died with barely a whimper, and I felt empty. _

_I burned him on a pyre outside, watching long into the night, and waiting for sunrise. When it began to creep over the horizon I waited, my newly vampiric instincts howling at me to go inside. Instead I stayed, and tensed as the first rays of sunlight touched my face. I felt nothing save the warmth of sunlight. I was stunned, and overjoyed. I hadn't been relegated to the night after all. I could go out in the daylight. _

_I waited outside till the last embers of the pyre had died, than I went back inside the huge house and began methodically searching. I went through every book and component, every scroll and note, looking for something new. And, almost to my own surprise, I found it. It was a spell to block the call of additional slayers. It was almost ridiculously easy, save for one element. It must be cast by a slayer turned vampire. _ _It had been created by Stephan, undoubtedly he'd planned to call another slayer, have a Vampire turn Lenore, then have her cast the spell. She should have had lucidity long enough to do that, based on the other instances of slayers being changed. Instead, it had been found by me. My entire life had been because of this, led by the nose to be the one person in the world who could cast this spell. For a moment I felt like Aggie was looking over my shoulder, nodding as the pieces of her puzzle fell into place. I was so angry then, feeling like my own lifelong struggle had been planned and plotted by others. Like none of it was of my own choosing. It was hours before I could calm myself enough to cast the spell. And when I did, I was unconscious for nearly two days. When I awoke it was with a ravenous hunger. Almost without thinking I went to the kitchen and hunted up some food. Mostly dried fruit, as he had little else in stock. I was halfway done when I realized what I was doing . . . and that the food WAS satisfying my hunger. Suddenly my world brightened a little bit as visions of draining farm animals for a bloody meal faded away. The final mark of a vampire, the need for blood, had not taken. I had the strength of one, the immortality, the increased perception, and, when stressed, the ability to shift into the face of a vampire, but I need not fear daylight or crosses and did not need to feed on the blood of living creatures. Time would teach me that though I did not need blood to survive, it would give me boosts of added strength, and was necessary to facilitate quick healing after a severe injury. _

_I collected the books I thought we could use, and then left, setting the house ablaze behind me to prevent anyone from making use of any secrets Stephan and I had left behind. I returned to the forefront of our war, and began to plan in earnest for success. _

_For nearly fifty years the wars raged on. The council as it had been began to slowly die out. And we began to build a new one. We found men and women devoted not only to the elimination of evil, but the protection of mankind and of slayers. We drew from scholars, warriors, all walks of humanity, even a few magic wielders. And finally one day, the council's new leader was destroyed, and what remained of the slayers were united under one banner, with our new council firmly behind them, working WITH them, instead of against. The backbone of the original council was broken, and so were they. Though they continued to cause trouble for a bit, circulating rumors of the slayers and their "vampire leader, the eternal Twilight, who destroys all who stand before her" and other such nonsense. Our scholar's and mages created a new spell, one that would weaken the call of the slayer's blood, so that when they slayers began dying of natural causes, replacements would not be called. Within a few generations things would again be as they should have been. One slayer, and a council of Watcher's to assist her, as it had begun so long ago, and as it should have been._

_I drifted for a few years, slaying what vampires I wasn't sworn not to, doing my job. In the meantime the Master and his family were growing in power, quickly becoming one of the most powerful vampire sects in the world. They had a group of human followers who worshiped them, allowing them to feed on them in hopes of being granted eternal life. Many times I met up with the Master, or his servants, and was forced by my promise to let them walk away unscathed, though I was able to rescue whoever their current victims were. And many times I sought the Master in his nest, seeking information about what I was. It was an odd relationship we had. Each of us knew that were things at all different, we wouldn't hesitate to destroy one another, yet in the midst of the forced truce a strange kinship was struck. I learned much from him, and bore him a respect I'd never had for a vampire. He, in turn, grew fond of me, treating me as he did his favored children. It was whispered among his family that of all his children, I was the most beloved. I scoffed at that. As the time grew ever closer when I would be able- and obligated- to kill him, he began to draw away. Finally, barely a year before my bargain was up, he sought me out. He asked if I would continue our bargain, and when I refused his ugly, inhuman face grew sad. "Pity." Was all he said, but a moment later, I heard the sound of chanting, and turned to see two priests of a some demonic order I had never seen. As I stepped forward to stop them, they finished their chant and I was hit by a wave of magic so strong I was thrown back and knocked breathless. I lay there, paralyzed, watching helplessly as The Master came to stand above me. His face was sad, yet a bit gleeful too. An odd mix, made odder still by his utterly inhuman looks. "It's a shame that you couldn't have finished your task and then come over to our side little slayer. I've searched for a daughter such as you for centuries. Sleep now, you will eventually learn of your fate." _

_And sleep I did. For fifty years. When I awoke, a minion of the Master was waiting, and told me what his Sire had done. Unable to bring himself to kill me, he cast instead a spell that would cause me to sleep for fifty years every time I saw his face. At the end of fifty years I would awaken, and remain awake until I saw the Master's face. You see, the Master had come, in the time he saw me, to fear me. He knew very well that I would hunt him when the time was up, and he feared he would lose. With this spell, he prevented me from even searching for him. And so my life became sleep, interrupted by small periods of wakefulness. The Master feared my finding a way to break the spell, and so would only allow me to stay awake for a brief time. Sometimes a week, once as long as three years, and then would seek me out and appear before me. I would fall instantly into a deathlike sleep and he would take me back to an ancient underground temple in the heart of England, where I would sleep in a glass coffin sealed from harm by powerful spells. _

_During one of my awake periods I met Spike and Drusilla. I recognized them as distant descendants of the Master, as I always recognized my own Sire's kin. I approached them with the intention of finding out where the master was, but I found myself swept up in something I hadn't been involved in . .. . ever. Fun. Spike and Dru were simply having a good time. When we first met, that night happened to not include any killing or anything, and I found myself enjoying my life for the first time in my memory. Almost before I realized it, Spike and I were fast friends, and Dru hated me with a passion. Never one to share, Dru disliked Spike and I's instant friendship, and hated it even more when she found out I was double time her enemy. A vampire with a soul, and a slayer besides. Spike didn't care at all. It was already his friend, and as long as I didn't stake him or take away his EVERY meal, he was fine with it. I, on the other hand, found myself in a moral dilemma, after all making friends with the enemy is against the rules. Spike was with me when the master made his appearance. That was a nice period, that one. I got a little over a year. And all of that was spent with Spike. He went away to feed, and always assured me that's he eaten a murdering rapist, or some other such scum. And I went away to hunt evil, and told him I hadn't done anything. We both knew the other was lying, but we couldn't let it matter. And though I knew what I should do . .. I never did. And because he loved her, I never went after Drusilla either. But when the Master appeared and I fell back into my familiar sleep, it was Spike who insisted on taking me back to my see through coffin bed. And fifty years later when I woke up, it was to see him sitting there waiting for me. I'd never had a real friend before. Spike was the first. To a vampire, a year is nothing, barely a whisper of time. And yet that was all I'd known him for. And still he waited for me to wake up, and helped me avoid the master. We gallivanted around the world, doing nothing of importance, but having a grand time. Drusilla was with us most of the time, silent and disapproving, or loudly insane. _

_When I'd been awake for half a year, Spike took Drusilla on a trip by themselves for a few months. I knew he didn't really want to, but he did it for her because she begged. Barely days after he left I found another vampire I knew was of my same line. Tall and dark and serious, he was as different from Spike as night to day, but I was drawn to him anyway. We were kindred. Haunted by our own deeds. I learned that he was the infamous Angelus, Drusilla's sire and Spike's one-time idol. I felt the different in him myself, more so even than Spike, who had more of a soul than any other vampire I'd come across. He came to me for help, to learn to live with his soul. How he knew where I was, I still don't know. But in the remaining months we lived and worked together. _

_Where Spike brought light and laughter with him, Angelus brought meditation, thought, and opposition. In trying to help him, I had to focus on my own sins, and try to help him see how I'd lived with them as long as I had, and to help him see how to live with his as well. Our time together ended with a fight. He was determined to brood and feel guilt for what he'd done, when the guilt was crippling him and keeping him from doing anything useful now that he had a chance to do good. He was furious with me for not understanding, and accused me of being a hypocrite since I'd let Spike live so long. We argued so loudly, neither of us heard the door open, and only when I looked up and saw a figure standing behind him did I realize we weren't alone. I tried to tell him goodbye, but I didn't have time. The last thing I remembered as I slipped back to sleep was the last thing I'd always seen. The Master's face. _

The room was silent, and it's occupants blinked in confusion as the images in their minds faded and they returned to the present time. Each glanced at the clock, expecting hours to have passed, but only a few moments had passed. In that time, they had relived a lifetime. Kat spread her hands wide, gaining back their attention. "It's been thirty years since then. I woke up nearly two years ago, when Buffy killed the Master. I've spent that time acclimating myself to this new world." She smiled at Buffy. "Thank you for that." 

Buffy returned her smile. "I'm sorry I was so rude I just. . . . " 

Kat held up a hand. "No need for apologies. I understand." 

Angel cleared his throat. "When the Master showed up and you fell at my feet, my first thought was to attack him. He wasn't alone, but I thought I could at least destroy him before they got to me. I stopped because he told me to go ahead and do it. He said that I wouldn't like what you woke up as." He hung his head a bit. "I assumed that meant you would wake up without a soul." 

Spike wrapped an arm around Kat's shoulders. "He was just gassing. Kitten hung onto her soul 'cause she was too stubborn to give it up when the rest of us did. Fat chance of anyone taking it away from her now." Kat smiled at that. 

Giles nodded. "Your story explains a lot of what I've read, and I'd love to get an accurate accounting of it all from you sometime . .. in the future of course." 

Buffy shot Giles an exasperated glance. "Okay, I understand you wanting to see these two, and I understand how you got in here and all of that. But I don't understand WHY you went with cryptic little notes and brought them all here. AND I don't understand why Angel was so worried. I mean, granted, you without a soul would be VERY bad news, but there seemed to be more behind that than a worry for the state of your soul." 

Kat interrupted Angel before he could answer. "I brought them here because I wanted to meet you, all of you. This whole little dynamic. And I knew about all of you. That's how I know all of your names, not from mind reading." 

"But, how. I mean, Buffy, Angel, yeah lots of people know them. But me, Xander, Cordelia? How could you know about us." Willow seemed oddly pleased about being known. 

"Because the Watcher's Council does." 

Giles made a loud "Ah" noise and everyone glanced at him momentarily. Angel just looked at her. "Out with it Kat." 

Kat pulled her long hair out from beneath the weight of Spike's arm and settled back against it. "When I woke up, I didn't know how long I'd been asleep. There had always been someone there waiting for me. Spike the one time, the rest of the time some lackey of the master who had the assignment of sacrificing himself to bring me up to speed on life in that time. This time was no different. It was only AFTER I learned that it wasn't fifty years later, it was thirty, and no one had told him to be there, he'd come on his own that I started to wonder about it. Turns out he had worked with the master for only a very short time, and had been turned for a specific purpose. His computer skills. Old vampires often have a trouble adjusting to changes, and the master wanted someone who could handle modern technology. This boy hadn't had the stomach for it though, and so he had left, but not before he found out about me from some loose lipped vampire. When he heard the Master had died he came to try to find me. As it turns out, I didn't wake up for several weeks after the Master died, and this boy, Tim was his name, was waiting. He offered to teach me how to survive in this world, if I promised to stake him when the lessons were over. I agreed, and he began to teach." 

"I learned a lot from him. Though far from an expert on computers, I can work one. I know how to drive, I can order food from a drive through, dial a phone, all those other good things necessary for survival these days. He also showed me a surprise legacy the Master had left me. A bank account in the world's oldest bank that was worth millions. He got me id and set me up with a credit line and all. One of the last things we did before he insisted I do what I'd promised him was invade the computer data base of the Watcher's council. In there are records of all of you. Things you wouldn't dream of them knowing are there for anyone with the know how to find." 

Kat looked at Willow. "Willow Rosenburg, practicing Witch, one time romantic attachment of a werewolf. Xander Harris, dubious military training, former victim of bestial possession. Riley Finn, Lieutenant in special demon military division. Possibly contaminated with enhancing chemicals." 

Each of them gasped in turn, but Kat continued as if she hadn't heard them. "I could go in for each of you, and go into much more detail. Suffice it to say that the Council has been keeping very close tabs on you. They are wandering dangerously close to becoming a force of evil once again. We also found an allusion to what they are planning. It wasn't specific, but I had my suspicious, so I flew to England (An experience I could easily have done without. My medieval mind was not ready for flight.) and snuck into their headquarters. Their security is really laughable for such a puffed up bunch. I found the proof I needed there." 

"Proof of what, exactly?" Wesley looked distinctly uncomfortable with yet more disapproval heaped on the heads of his former employers. 

Kat looked at each of them in turn, but in the end it was Buffy her gaze lingered on. "The council believes that you are a tool of evil. They think that you will become like the other slayer. Faith? Is that her name? They have decided to eliminate you before you have such a chance" 

Buffy smirked slightly. "How do they plan on doing that? They can't even defend their own headquarters, you just said it yourself!" 

Kat glanced at Angel. "Someone has convinced them to cast the _**raseri av fortid**_ on Buffy."** **


	3. Sins Revisited

  
  


### ******Part Two:**

### **Sins Revisited**

###### "The only cure for grief is action." 

###### -- George Henry Lewes

  
  


Angel went pale. "Where did they learn about that? I thought you destroyed all the books." 

"I did. But I didn't destroy the knowledge. The first council must have passed it on somehow." 

Giles interrupted a shade before Buffy had a chance to. "Who or what is this _**raseri av fortid**_? And what does it have to do with Buffy or the council? 

Angel answered. "It's an ancient Norwegian spell, roughly translated it means "fury of past". Said, by most legends, to be handed down to a powerful mage by Loki, the god of mischief so the mage could punish a Viking king who had mocked Loki. Once casts, it summons . . .shades, demon shadows of your past. All enemies you've faced, these shadow representations of them come from your own memory, and attack you. Their attacks SEEM physical, but in reality are only illusions, and they are destroying your mind not your body. In the end you become a mindless shell, and the caster can offer your soul to Loki as a tribute." He glanced at Kat, who took up where he left off. 

"The spell was used once, during the Watcher Wars. A Watcher named Kenneth cast it on a Boonagath demon that he was feuding with. Kenneth wasn't a true disciple of Loki, and thought that once the spell had done it's job he could claim the soul as his own, and thus have his own personal mindless and perfectly obedient assassin, which was a Boonagath's specialty. The spell, however, had some undocumented results. It rendered the Boonagath mindless, as it was supposed to, but rather than remaining mindless, the demons that had destroyed the Boonagath, enemies from it's own past, took control of it's body. The result was a demonic killing machine with all the strength of it's species, and the wisdom and magic of it's former enemies, which happened to include a powerful Illusionist, and another Watcher . . . . . one that I was more than familiar with. I never discovered what it was Stephan and the Boonagath had feuded over, but it was irrelevant." 

Kat's strange silver eyes fastened on Buffy. "The . . . demon was a weapon for the Watcher's council, and a powerful one. His defeat was probably the true end of the Watcher Wars, though they lingered on for several years after that. It took a dozen slayers, and several magic wielders to subdue him." Kat's eyes seemed haunted. "Of the dozen that battled him, only I and two others survived. Stephan's cunning controlled the demon, and it was a truly awesome foe. One that any single slayer would not have been able to stop." Her penetrating gaze remained on Buffy, seeing the blonde girl's face pale beneath her tan. "After the war, we searched through every book and document we could find and removed traces of the spell. Anyone alive whom we suspected may know of the spell was read by our mind readers, and the knowledge erased from their memories. It wasn't until my time with Angelus that he told me of the spell he had found. The spell we thought we'd destroyed was still out there, and Angelus while still soul-less had found half of the spell. He had been searching for the other half until he regained his soul. We destroyed his half. And we hoped." She turned to Angelus now. "Our hope was in vain. The spell exists. There is no longer an army of slayers, and if the spell is cast on Buffy . . . . ." The room remained silent. 

Slowly Buffy gathered her thoughts and sat forward. "Sooo . . . . if they cast this spell . . . then I'll be attacked by all the nasties from my own past. The Mayor, The Master, The Judge . . . . all the "The" people pretty much." 

Kat nodded. "And then some. The enemies you forgot about. The weakling vampires, the subtle enemies who pulled the strings in the background, your high school rival . . . .living or dead their shadows will destroy you." Her voice quieted. "And then they will have the body of this generation's strongest slayer at their disposal. I've done a bit of research into your past. You faced a demon that ascended into it's true form, yes?" 

Buffy nodded, Xander's words preempting any response she might have made. "Yup. Big Bad Mayor became big smelly pile of giant snake meat. We sorta blew up our high school in the process, too." 

Kat nodded. "These demons would return . . .. both of them. In the form of the man and the snake. And it would likely bring to your body attributes of it's own. Possibly the ability to morph into the "giant mayor snake" though I doubt it. More likely it would have the previous mayor's impervious nature." 

Giles took off his glasses, cleaning them on his shirt. "So what you're essentially saying is that if the Council is allowed to perform this spell, than Buffy will be destroyed, or a, at least the um, essence of her will be. And that the creatures that take over her body will be unkillable?" 

Kat nodded. "I'm afraid so." 

Wesley stood, beginning to pace fretfully, ignoring Cordelia's rolling eyes. "If you knew all of this when you invaded the Council headquarters, why didn't you stop it then?" 

"There was too many of them. I have the ability to broadcast thoughts and memories, as you just witnessed, and I can read some thoughts, with great difficulty, but I am no true mind reader. I may not be human, but I am also not Wonder Woman. Even I can't raid the library of a Council filled to the brim with spell casters, and then erase all knowledge of the _**raseri av fortid**_ from their consciousness." 

Spike interrupted, a grin on his face, though beneath it was a worry that had Kat puzzled, and slightly amused. "Where did YOU learn about Wonder Woman, Sleeping Beauty?" 

Kat smiled. "My tutor was a comic book fan." 

Buffy stood. "So, what? I guess we fly to England and make some Englishmen cry while we rip up all their pretty books? And this doesn't make sense to me still. Why me? So they SUSPECT I may turn evil? Why not cast this spell on Faith, not that it would be any better if this happened to her, but why not cast it on the one they KNOW was evil?" 

Three mouths opened to answer all at once, but it was Giles who got it out first, beating Angel and Kat by a millisecond. "Because they know you defeated Faith once. They, ah, know you're the most powerful, and thus the most dangerous." 

Cordelia snorted. "By their warped logic anyways." 

Buffy walked to the center of the room, her eyes glinting with determination. "Okay, now we've got the whole story. Here's what we're gonna do. Kat, Angel, Giles, Wesley, and Tara; you guys start researching. Kat and Angel can fill the rest of you in on the details. I want to know WHAT they're waiting for before casting this spell. If they could have cast it by now, they would have. I want to know everything I can about it. Willow, I want you to get into the Council's files. Find out anything and everything you can. Cordelia, get on the phone, Willow's laptop, whatever. Find the fastest way to get us to England. No expense spared if it'll take less time. Remember, we have to accommodate Angel . . . ." She glanced at Spike, who raised his eyebrows at her and folded his arms stubbornly over his chest. Buffy sighed. "And Spike. So no sunlit plane trips or convertibles. Anya and Xander, get a list of spell components or anything Tara and Willow . . . and Kat may need. Run to the magic shop and get them, take Riley with you in case you run into trouble. Then go to my house, and your own houses and pack. Dawn and my mom will help you pack for me. I'll call and let them know. If you can, go and pack for Tara and Willow too. Giles can get his own stuff together here. Don't forget weapons, communication gear, anything else necessary." She looked around. "I'm going to go patrol. There's still a nest of vampires that need taking care of, and rumors of something big and ugly down near the old Initiative caves. Everyone okay with this?" Everyone began nodding, moving off toward their various tasks. Riley looked like he might protest, but thought better of it. 

Spike stepped in front of Buffy. "Forgot about me luv. What's left for Spike to do?" 

Buffy glared at him. "Just help whoever needs helping." 

Spike seemed about to protest, obviously wanting to go with Buffy on patrol. Kat came and stood next to Buffy, giving Spike a soft smile and a shake of her head. He grumbled and went to pick up a book for research. "I'm not needed here, the others can work in my stead. I'd like to come with you, if it's alright." Kat told Buffy, her voice oddly shy. 

Buffy nodded. "Fine, let's go." She pawed through her weapon bag, pulling out three stakes, stashing two in her coat and handing the other to Kat. She smiled her thanks and pocketed the stake. Buffy shoved her favorite small battle axe through her belt and left, Kat at her heels, and a flurry of activity buzzing through Giles' living room behind them. 


	4. Sisters In Death

  
  


### ******Part Three**

### **Sisters in Death**

###### "We acquire the strength we have overcome." 

###### -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

  
  


They hunted in silence for a time. Three random vampires fell before their strength. Each gauged the other's abilities with the trained eye of a master. The younger found a creature whose talents surpassed her own by a margin so wide she was awed. The older found a slayer whose natural powers were nearly unmatched, and whose control was remarkable for one so young. It was Kat who finally broke the silence as they stood in an empty graveyard, devoid of anything but gloom and corpses. 

"The stories and accounts of you are under-rated." 

Buffy turned to her. "What do you mean?" 

Kat smiled. "You are remarkable. You're strength, your control, your instincts. They are amazingly well developed for one so young. I've seen hundreds of slayers, more than anyone else alive I suspect. Of all of them, you are the most gifted I've known." 

Buffy stood for a moment, her stance awkward, unsure of what to say. "I don't think about it much I suppose. I just assumed that all slayers were like me." 

Kat shook her head, her black hair shaking in a dark halo around her face. "No. Slayers are not created equal. I was the strongest of my time because strength of that degree was necessary at for me to do what I was fated to do. I suspect it is the same with you." She was silent a moment. "You destroyed the Master Buffy. For one hundred years, no slayer attacked him, but do you think they left him alone after that? Do you think slayer after slayer didn't attempt to destroy him? When the Judge first walked the earth, don't you think the slayer of that time attempted to destroy him? Do you think a slayer never challenged Angelus in the days when he bore no conscience and no soul?"   
  


Buffy shrugged. "I never thought about it. Part of the time I think I'm just lucky. That I'm on borrowed time. I don't know. It just seems like . . . like I'm never strong enough. Like I'll never have enough time to do what I want to do." She looked away, her eyes automatically scanning the graveyard. "So much of what I do is instinct. Every time I try to pin it down, it slips away again. I train harder and harder, and study, and discipline myself . . . and it never gets any easier. I get better and better . . . and there's more and more of them. More evil, more vampires . . . . more chaos turning my life upside down." Her voice quieted a bit, grew sad instead of angry. "The scariest thing is that I look at Faith, I see the path she went down, and then I look at myself, and I see how EASY it would be for me to follow that same road, or one that runs parallel to it." Buffy grimaced a bit. "And what's even scarier is that I'm waltzing through a graveyard with a stranger telling my deepest secrets." 

Kat smiled a bit, a wistful smile, tinged with sadness. "I felt the same way. Do you think I always show strangers a narrated slide-show of my life? You and I are alike Buffy, and I think we both feel it. As for your deepest secrets . . . . I've heard all of this so many times Buffy. The path you speak of, the one your friend went down, it is there for all of us. And many of us HAVE chosen that road in the past. It is easy for us to turn to darkness, easier than regular mortals. Not because we have a demon within us, but because we have power. There are so many more temptations for you when you have that power than when you don't. And in some of us, The Powers That Be granted us power, but not the strength of will to control it." She trailed a hand distractedly through a nearby bush, her fingers idly shredding small leaves as she spoke. "You have both Buffy." She flicked the pieces of leaves off of her fingers, lifting her silver gaze to lock with Buffy's sea green eyes. "I fought a war for a hundred years. I watched slayers die around me, one by one they fell. And all the while, I wondered if what I was fighting for was possible. If slayers were capable of becoming what I wanted them to be. I watched them die, and wondered if it was all for nothing." Kat's purring voice was thick with emotion, her eyes clouded and distant as she remembered again what she had witnessed. "Now, hundreds of years after that war . . . . I find you. And in you I see everything I ever wanted to allow my slayers to become. You're strong, self-reliant, brave. You do your job and you do it well, but your job isn't WHAT you are. You have a Watcher who does what I wish the Council would always do, protects, assists . . . . loves. And you have a life! Friends! Love!" She reached up in an oddly maternal gesture and brushed the hair back from Buffy's neck, her gaze falling to the familiar bite scar. "You've sacrificed everything you have, everything you are, at one time or another. Yet you remain you, and you remain strong. It's taken hundreds of years, but finally The Powers That Be got it right." She smiled. "Perhaps it is odd for you to know this, but you, you are the validation of all I worked toward for so long." 

Buffy looked at her, uncertain of what to say. "You- you're wrong you know. I mean, I've done lots of good stuff, but I've made so many mistakes . . . . Angel and I, I mean, it was my fault he . . . do you know about that?" 

Kat nodded. "I know. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. You couldn't have known." 

"But I should have. And there's things you don't know. I mean, so much I've done has been the wrong decision at the wrong time. And Faith . . . . I was there and I didn't stop her, and what she did, what she became. I just-" 

"Buffy!" Kat's face was a touch angry now. "We ALL make mistakes. We all do things that are wrong. You can't blame yourself for every wrong. It won't help you, it will only cripple you. Guilt and self-doubt will weigh you down. Accept what has happened, and then move on. Learn from what you've done. It was an old cliche, even in my time, but it's true. Every trial we survive makes us stronger." Kat smiled. "Faith made her own choices, and you made yours. For better or worse, they are over and done with, and other times and challenges lie ahead." 

Buffy hesitated a moment, than spoke, her voice uncertain. " When I watched your story . . . I saw so many things that reminded me of me. You always did what you had to do, despite the consequences. I haven't always been able to do that. But I want to know . . . Going to England . . . trying to stop this . . . . is this going to do any good? Should we even go, or should we . . . . do something else.?" 

"What are you asking me Buffy?" 

Buffy made a soft sound with her mouth and pushed her hair away from her face. "I don't want to become . . . . what you said I could become. If there's no way to stop this, I don't want . . . I don't want to come to that end. I'd rather . . . . die doing my job. Faith is back on the right path, even if that path IS in a prison cell right now. And you're here . . . . if I had to let go now, the world would survive a while." Her voice lowered to an almost whisper, her eyes filled with tears. "I just don't want us to wait a little too long. And if there's really no chance of stopping this . . . I want to say goodbye and go." 

Kat frowned. "You've given up before we've begun. You are wrong. This world needs you Buffy. Not me, not Faith, you. We will stop them. The spell has never been cast on a slayer, even if it is cast maybe your own will can overcome it. There is always a chance Buffy. Don't lay down and die now." 

Both women seemed uncomfortable with the intimacy of their conversation, but oddly, each also seemed content with it. Buffy shifted gears with startling abruptness, resuming her trek through the graveyard, heading for the old initiative caves. "So why did you announce your presence by replaying that fun little movie of the week that was your life? I mean, I know you said you felt kin to me and all, but still. Personal stuff hello! Why did you feel I needed to know all of that right away?" 

Kat smiled a bit at the girl's phrasing. "I just felt you needed to know. There are certain, ahh, parallels between us . . . . there are signs. I hesitate to say more until I know more. But Buffy, you are what I once was, a rogue slayer. And the council is becoming what it once was . . . . a controlling and malevolent force. It may be that another war is brewing . . . and that your purpose is to lead another wave against the Council. And . .. . I wanted to get the telling of who and what I am out of the way. It's not an easy story to tell . . . or an easy memory to relive. I wanted to be done with it, so that you know what I know. No surprises." 

Buffy nodded distractedly. "I understand that . . . . but me lead a war? That's not what I do . . . . I mean, strategy has never been my strong suit. I'm more of a muscle your way through, bash and crash sort of girl. It's easier that way." 

"Easier perhaps, but not always better. Or less painful." 

Buffy grimaced in answer. "My mind is not on this patrolling. I think I'm gonna go home and check on Dawn-my sister." Kat gave a slight nod, acknowledging that she knew who Dawn was. "I might as well pack my own stuff while I'm there. Do you ah, want to come?" Buffy silently hoped the other girl would refuse. She needed time to think. And she wanted some private time to talk to Riley about Angel . . . and this whole mess. 

Kat shook her head. "No . . . . I think I'll stay here for a few minutes and then return to your watcher's home." Her smiled turned rueful. "After all . . . . this is a nice homey atmosphere for our kind." Buffy smiled and bid the other girl goodbye, heading for her house with a wandering step that wasn't anywhere close to the quickest route home. 


	5. Shall They Change the Guard

To all reading and reviewing this story, Thanks so much for taking the time to bother with my silly little fanfic. To Sanguine, who offered suggestions for the second part . . . or was it the third? Whichever, Thank you. The same problem you mentioned had occurred to me, and since I couldn't figure out any way to break up her flashback in the context it was told, I decided to explain it away later. Hope that solves the problem for you. This part catches us up to what I've actually written, so expect the parts to be a bit slower. I'm sorry! And since they have had me re-reading them much, there might be more errors. I apologize. Thanks again to all for reading, and to anyone reading who hasn't been reviewing, please do! Feedback is always good!   
  


### **Part Four**

### **Shall The Guard Change**

###### "I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

###### And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

######  And in short, I was afraid."

###### T.S. Eliot

  
  


Buffy walked slowly and distractedly toward her house. Her mind ran over all the things she had seen and heard today. Her already chaotic life had abruptly spun completely out of her control and she was still reeling from it. Seeing Angel was always a shock, and this time more than usual. Not only did he emerge suddenly in her territory, he brought a dire threat, another untold story from his past, and a beautiful and awesomely capable slayer from the past. No matter how many times she tried to focus on something else- Riley, Dawn, the approaching crisis, anything- her mind kept going back to Angel's face as he looked at the other slayer. It was a look Buffy had never seen before. He looked at her as kindred, as someone who understood him. With Buffy he had been loving and protective. He had looked on her as an equal, but also as something he wanted to protect and save. He had always tried to shield her from the side of him he hated. She had never seen him look at her with that utterly open expression he'd given Kat. He trusted her to see the worst of himself, something he'd never done with Buffy. She couldn't understand that, or why he was so open about it. Buffy knew she wasn't the most perceptive person on the planet, but it had been so obvious that she could see it without trying. 

She came into sight of her house, and was unsurprised to see Riley sitting on the front steps, waiting for her. She tried forcibly to pull her thoughts away from Angel and Kat. As she walked into her boyfriend's widely opened arms, a final thought came to her, one that wouldn't fade no matter how much she wished it would. She didn't say it aloud, but it hummed persistently in the back of her mind. She's better for him than I could ever be. She held off on confronting Riley for ditching Anya and Xander and simply let him fold her in his arms for a moment, pushing the world away for an instant.   
  


*******************************************************************************   
  


Kat stood silently in the cemetery, her eyes moving languidly over it's surprisingly broad expanse. She spied a small bench beneath a gracefully sweeping willow tree and made her way over to it, sitting softly down and reveling in the silence of the place. She spoke aloud after a moment. "Odd isn't it? Centuries of life and this graveyard, any graveyard, is the closest thing I've ever had to a home. A silent graveyard, the mark of a slayer's town." She directed her attention to the tree beside her. "You should know by now Angelus that hiding from me behind trees never works for you. Either go away or come out." 

The silence remained for a moment, and then with a soft rustle of parting leaves, Angel stepped out from the trees enclosure and stood before her. He looked down at her with a slight smile. "You and Buffy are one of the few who can do that you know." 

"Not surprising. You are pretty stealthy for a great hulking brute of a vampire." Kat smiled a bit. "Turns out I'm much better at watching you than you are at watching me. I was here watching when you and Buffy had your reunion earlier tonight." She grinned now. "Skulking around graveyards is becoming something of a habit of yours I see." 

He sat heavily beside her, leaning forward and clasping his hands together. "Some things never change." 

She turned to face him. "But others things do." She stared searchingly at him. "You are very different from the vampire I argued with the day the Master came from me." 

He avoided her eyes. "I've been through a lot of things." 

"So I've read." The silence stretched out, became heavy and awkward between them. Until finally Angel couldn't stand it. He stood up nervously again, needing movement. 

"I'm sorry Katerina." 

She looked up, her expression startled. "For what?" 

"For not finding you, for arguing with you. For letting HIM find you that day." 

She shook her head. "None of that was your fault, except for the arguing. We never did finish that discussion. Do you remember what it was about?" 

He looked away from her penetrating stare. "No, I don't." 

She sighed. "Yes, you do Angelus. And for all you've been through, and all you've changed, you still know nothing of your own true nature, do you?" 

His face darkened. "I know enough." 

She shook her head. "Yes, you do know. But you refuse to believe it." He started to interrupt but she stopped him with a raised hand. "I'll not argue this again with you. We debated this over and over again and you never once gave in. I understand you better than anyone else alive ever will Angel, I know of the demon that gnaws at your insides, because the same one lives inside me. But I will never understand your refusal to admit the truth. That the demon IS YOU, just as the demon within me IS me. Until you admit that to yourself you will never truly conquer the dark side of yourself." She too stood, one hand coming up to cup his chin, forcing him to look at her. "And until then, you will always live in fear that the darker half of you will gain control of you, as it did for so long." Angel jerked his face from her hand and turned away. 

"You don't know everything Kat." 

Her face turned sad. "I know enough." 

"You're mocking me." Angel's face was taut, his eyes dark with anger. 

"No. Just taking a leaf from your book." 

He smiled a bit, the tension of his body easing. "Copycat." 

She smiled back, letting their former topic fade into the past. "Why did you follow me here Angel? Afraid I wouldn't come back?" 

He shook his head, the slight smile on his face growing genuine. "No. I knew you'd come back. If only to see Spike." 

She laughed. "Ah! Jealously rears its ugly head again! What's the matter Angel? You afraid I like blonde and brassy more than hulking and brooding?" Their teasing had a familiar feel to it. Like something they'd done many times before. 

"Please we all know you only hang around Spike to get close to Drusilla." 

Kat made a face. "Yes. That's it. I've been after Dru all along. Baby talk babble is just so erotic." 

Angel laughed loudly, the echo in the empty graveyard surprising even him. He quieted after a moment and they both settled back onto the bench, sitting in companionable silence. Her eyes turned toward where Buffy had disappeared. Angel followed her gaze to the empty space where Buffy had been. The look on Kat's face was odd. He hesitated a moment and then spoke, gesturing toward where she stared with one hand. "What do you think of her?" 

Kat smiled wistfully. "She's what I've spent hundreds of years hoping for." 

Angel clenched his teeth a bit in frustration. "No, I mean . . . what do you THINK of her?" 

Laughing silver eyes glanced at him merrily. "Are you asking me if I like your girlfriend Angelus?" 

"She's not my girl-" 

"But she was. And you wish she was still." She shook her head. "Two hundred years old and he still worries whether his friends will like his new girlfriend. Honestly." 

Angel sighed and sat back. "You make me tired." He'd forgotten how trying she could be, with her pointed remarks, constant teasing, and sudden bouts of deafness that seemed to occur whenever she didn't want to talk about something. He'd also forgotten the simple comfort of being with her, of being with someone who could understand him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her. He reached forward and pulled her back for a brief, fierce embrace. "I've missed you Kat. I'm sorry I didn't say that before." 

She hugged him back until he awkwardly pushed himself away. She gave him a beaming smile and reached up to brush the hair from her eyes. "And I've missed you. Even while I slept, I missed you and Spike." He grimaced at Spike's name. She ignored it and continued. "For all the chaos and possible horror we face here, I'm glad to have this time with you, with Spike . . . and with Buffy. I wish I had a chance to meet Faith before we faced the Council. Tell me, what is she like?" 

Angel frowned perceptively, studying her intensely, ignoring her question. "What's going on Kat? What aren't you telling me?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Listen, I may not have known you as long as Spike or the Master or anyone, but I KNOW you. There's a lot of things your not telling me, but there's something that you're hiding that you KNOW I need to be told. What is it?" 

"Don't ask Angel. You don't want to know. And if you keep asking, I WILL tell you. So let it go." 

Angel wished he could read minds. So much of what was happening was shrouded in mystery, but he knew with everything in him that Kat was hiding something about this from him. Something that affected not only him, but her as well. And then, as her eyes skipped away from meeting his again, he knew. He didn't know how, but he knew. "You're leaving?" 

She flicked her gaze toward his and nodded silently. 

"Why . . . . how? What are you doing?" 

Kat leaned back, sighing tiredly. "It's time for the changing of the guard Angel. My purpose was to free the slayers and to ensure that the master was dead. I did my job, and the Master is dead through no fault or aid of mine. The war that is brewing now . . . . I will help finish it. And then I will go." She stared sightlessly ahead. "I've seen so much death, so much destruction Angel. I've lived beyond what any slayer is expected to and done things that even you know nothing of. I'm tired of the fight. I was tired the first time the Master sent me into that sleep, and though I've slept for the better part of 600 years, I am still tired. Buffy is all I ever wished my slayers could be. My purpose is done and I no longer have a place here. Buffy . . . . you . . . . even Spike I suspect. YOU are the warriors fate has chosen now. I am a relic from a time long since passed. My war has been fought and won. Yours is just beginning. There is nothing left for me to do that I have not already done. I am not needed." 

Angel exploded off the bench. "I need you! Buffy needs you! Hell, even Spike needs you! Your place is with US! And you've done NOTHING. There is EVERYTHING left for you to do. You've fought and warred, but you've never lived! You've never had friends, or gone to school, or done anything that humans have a right to do. This isn't your end, it's a chance for you to LIVE." He quieted a moment and stepped back toward her. "Katerina, you lived an endless lifetime without joy. The only fun and love you had in your entire life came from a soul-less vampire . . . and a soulful one, who was too caught up in his own misery to be anything but a brooding burden. Don't give up before you've begun." 

She smiled sadly. "You know, I told Buffy almost the same thing. I told her not to give up before we even began." 

"And you were right. And so am I." 

Kat's silver eyes stared downward, swimming in tears she would not shed. "Since the day I walked into Aggie's old hut, I've had a purpose. I've known what I was supposed to do. Now, for the first time, there is nothing waiting for me. No homicidal Council or former Watcher, no Master, waiting to send me into nightmare-wracked sleep. I'm am lost." A single tear finally fell down her cheek. "I don't know how to live without fighting. Once this threat with the Council is over . . . . I will be nothing. No cause, no purpose, no battle. Just another slayer." She wiped the tear away. "And I'm afraid of what will become of me then." 

He pulled her into another brief hug, feeling in that moment somehow older than this girl, who had lived centuries longer than he. She looked young, sitting there sniffling beneath a tree. Twenty-one she might have been when she was turned, but she looked sixteen. He released her. "You will always have a place and a purpose. There is always a fight to be fought and a place for you to be." He smiled slightly. "And trust me, in these times, and especially in this town, there is always room for another slayer." His smiled faded and his gaze searched her miserable face. "Please stay Kat. Will you?" 

She sat up and he watched as she made a concentrated effort to collect herself. In a moment where the childlike woman had sat, the Katerina he was used to reappeared. Aloof aura and cynical gaze back in place, Kat gave him a grateful smile and a quick squeeze on the hand. "We should head back. Buffy will probably be back there soon too." With that she stood and began walking back toward Giles'. Angel followed, well aware that she had not really answered him. He knew as well as anyone how stubborn she could be. He doubted he had convinced her of anything, though he hoped he had. Angel said a silent prayer that someone would change her mind before this was all over and it was too late. As he silently walked behind her, his mind wandered to Buffy, wondering what she thought of all this. He thought of Spike's obvious infatuation with the blonde slayer, and Riley's puppy-dog like adoration. He had no right to dictate to Buffy who she could be with, but Lord that boy-scout irritated him. A single cheerful thought intruded on his brooding.At least she's not with either of them right now. 

____________________________________________________________________________ 


	6. I Will Follow

Thanks again to all those who have been kind enough to continue reading. I realize the plot is very slow to develop, but I never intended to share this when I began writing it, and so the fact that it's ridiculously long never bothered me. Now that I'm posting it, I realize that it isn't ridiculously long, it's LUDICROUSLY long. So bear with the slow plot development please, if you like the story enough to. Also, we are now caught up to what I had already written, so this is going out with only minimal proofreading. So I apologize in advance for any errors. Thanks again for reading, and please keep the reviews coming!   
  


### ** Part Five**

### **I Will Follow**

###### **"A man is too apt to forget that in this world he cannot have everything. A choice is all that is left him." **

###### **-- H. Mathews**

  
  


"Bloody boy scout wanker." Spike muttered beneath his breath, staring spitefully at the slayer and her G.I. Joe boy-toy, who stood cuddling in front of her house. He shifted uncomfortably in the hidden niche he'd discovered in the house next to Buffy's. A perfect vantage point it may be, better at least than the tree he used to hide behind, but it wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to lurk. He inhaled deeply of the lit cigarette in his hand and then flicked it aside, pushing the smoke slowly from his lungs as he watched Buffy disappear in Riley's solid embrace. He tipped the beer he held in his right hand down his throat in a long gulp than tossed that aside as well. He heard an outraged mew and turned to see a small calico cat he'd almost hit with the bottle. The animal mewed again at him angrily. "Sorry cat. Wasn't aiming for you, ya know." The cat seemed satisfied with that, settling down next to him to give herself a thorough cleaning. "Oughta be a law against it. Public indecency and all." Spike told the cat, who rolled her yellow eyes and ignored him, continuing with her bath. "Makes an honest citizen want to lose his lunch, watching the two of the snark like that. I've half a mind to ring up her Watcher and tell him what she's up to when she's got the rest of them slaving away. Supposed to be patrolling, but where's little miss slayer? Lip deep in Mr. Initiative." The cat gave him an exasperated look and marched away, tail stiff with annoyance. Spike watched her go. "Hell, I can't even scare a bloody cat these days." He lit another cigarette and watched with suddenly renewed interest as Buffy pushed herself away from Riley and began to berate him for ignoring her and leaving Xander and Anya to fend for themselves. "Now this is more like it! Get him slayer!" He watched gleefully as Buffy turned and slammed her way into the house, Riley following with a less forceful effect on the door. Spike listened happily to the raised voices coming from within, then turned and left, humming softly to himself. "Off to play with my kitten now."   
  


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"And she didn't even ask us if we would go. Or if we wanted to go. She just assumes we'll all tag along after her. Just because she's the slayer she thinks we don't have better things to do with our time than help her. I could stay here and make money. I could keep the shop open while Giles and her trot off to save the world or whatever they do. Instead we're sent to fetch supplies and come get in the way and die while she does some heroic slayer stuff to try and save us. This doesn't make sense. Xander hold that bag open. Everything is going to fall out." Anya checked the list she held and than began loading several more old books and vials of spell components into a large duffel bag. 

Xander panted with the effort of holding up the large duffel and balancing the smaller one flung over his shoulder. "I'm trying Anya, but this bag is so heavy I'm in danger of crashing through the floor into the basement." He heaved the bag onto the table and wiped at his forehead, half-listening as Anya went back into her tirade. He began to tune out her constant complaints as he thought about all that had happened that night. Suddenly Anya was standing in front of him, snapping her fingers in his face and looking more than a little annoyed. 

"Xander, you weren't even listening to me! You don't care about anything I think. All you care about is running off to where ever Buffy decides to send you. She doesn't even bother to ask you anymore, she knows you're such a puppy dog, you'll follow her anywhere. Well I'm not you, and Buf-" 

"Anya!!! Enough!!" Xander interrupted, his expression a strange mixture of offended dignity and anger. "I am NOT a puppy dog. I'm a friend. And Buffy didn't have to ask. She knew that she didn't have to worry about asking - because we're friends. That's what friends do. They help each other. She knew if she needed me I'd go. Just like if Willow needed me, or you I would go. Without question. It's a choice, Anya. And I chose to be a friend, no matter what." He stepped forward and began angrily shoving the last of the things in Anya's arms into the bag. "Even if I couldn't stand Buffy, I would go anyway. Because she's fighting against things that are bad. Not just a little bad, but end of the world bad. And I choose to side against those evil things, no matter how scary they are." He turned to Anya. 

Anya flung her now empty hands into the air and clenched her fists. "But we can't DO anything Xander. Except die, or cheer pointlessly from the sidelines as Buffy beheads things." 

Xander shook his head. "We can be there, and we can try. No matter what the consequences, that's what I chose a long time ago." 

Anya hesitated, her anger turning to sadness. "I never made that choice Xander. I don't want to die. And I don't want you to either. Stay here. Buffy would be the first one to tell you that, if she stopped being self-involved and self-important long enough to think about it." 

Xander stared at her for a moment in disbelief. He pulled the smaller bag onto the table and unzipped it, reaching inside and pulling out Anya's clothes and things. He placed them gently on the table and looked into her eyes. "I'm going Anya." 

"But Xander! What if you die? I'll be alone here! I don't care about saving the world, I just want to live in it. Why can't we be normal human-type people for a while, instead of the slayer's little helpers? Why can't we live our boring little lives in happy ignorance, never knowing there was an impending apocalypse. I bet Willow or Tara could do a spell, make us forget. We could stay here and not even know what we're missing." 

Xander reached forward and put his hands on her shoulders. He pulled her forward and hugged her, feeling her body shaking next to his. Brown eyes full of regret, he pushed her away. "I'm going Anya. And you're right. It wasn't your choice. Stay." With that he turned and left, the heavy bag slung over his shoulder, and the now lighter small one in his hand. 

Anya began to sob his name, calling him to come back. But she didn't go after him. And as he walked away, Xander realized that she had made her choice, and she knew it. She just regretted the necessity. And so did he. Ignoring the tears in his own eyes, he flung the bags into the back of Giles car and began driving slowly toward Buffy's house.   
  


****************************************************************************   
  


"Buffy, that's NOT why I'm here. I just wanted to make sure you were alright." 

"Riley, I'm not stupid. You didn't come over here to comfort me, you came to make sure I wasn't anywhere near Angel. You're checking up on me. And newsflash, I don't need a babysitter, I already have Giles. I need someone who trusts me enough to not follow me around just because my ex-boyfriend is in town." 

"You're ex-boyfriend who just happens to be a vampire. Whom you still care about enough to run off to LA at the slightest hint he's in a little trouble. And an EX-boyfriend, who stares at you like he wants to eat you. And considering the source, yes I mean that literally." 

"God! I SO don't need this right now. You're being immature and stubborn. I'm not WITH Angel anymore. I'm with you." Buffy shouted at him, fists clenched at her sides, fury flushing her face red. 

"ONLY BECAUSE HE LEFT!!" He shouted without thinking, then blanched as Buffy's face fell. Riley instinctively stepped forward to comfort her before stopping himself. He stared at the floor instead, wishing he was anywhere but here. 

Buffy stared at him, tears coming suddenly to her eyes. "Is that what you believe? With everything you know about me, that's still what you think?" 

"I'm not a fool Buffy. I know I got you by default. Nothing you say is going to convince me otherwise." He looked up, hating himself for causing the pain he saw on her beautiful face. "I'm not running off to England with you Buffy. Not unless you give me a reason to. It's pretty obvious that you don't need me. And I'm not even sure if you want me. I love you, but I'm not going to waste my life being a substitute for what you really want, but can't have. Tell me you don't want him. Tell me something real, because I'm tired of the delusions I've been letting myself live in." 

Buffy swallowed hard. "Something real? Fine. You're right, I don't need you. I don't need your muscle or your expertise or your skills, or your over-protective boyfriend pathos.. What I needed, you apparently can't give me now. So don't come with me. Stay here. Or go run back to your Initiative buddies and tell them all about your brief stint as a civilian." She turned and walked up the stairs, brushing past Dawn who stood with wide eyes in front of her bedroom door, obviously eavesdropping. She paused at the top and turned back to look at him. "I never deluded you, or lied to you. I always told the truth, and I gave you as much of myself as I was able. If it's not enough, than maybe the problem isn't me." 

Riley started to follow her then stopped. Buffy was right. He couldn't be what she needed right now. He couldn't be the guy who stood on the sidelines, or who let things just happen. It wasn't who he was. It wasn't that she was too hung up on Angel, it's that HE was too hung up on his ideas of a normal relationship. And he knew himself well enough to know he couldn't get over that now. And maybe he couldn't ever get over it. He turned and walked out, closing the door softly behind him. He stood outside her house for a moment, fighting the nearly overwhelming desire to go back inside, to apologize. To do anything necessary to bring her back. Instead he turned and left, automatically moving with haste and military precision toward his dorm room. Once there he fell onto his bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, wondering if he had done the right thing, and what he was going to do now. 

He didn't know how long he lay there, but suddenly and inexplicably, the silence and lack of action was too much, and Riley leapt out of the bed, yanking the door open and then exclaiming aloud in stunned surprise. "Graham?" 

His old friend stood in military gear, his hand raised to knock. He too jumped back in surprise as the door suddenly swung open. "Riley! You telepathic now or something?" 

Riley's shock faded and his expression turned inscrutable. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night Graham?" 

"Closer to morning now. You been on too much of a nocturnal schedule with that girlfriend of yours. I just wanted to talk. Only time I could get off. They been keeping us pretty busy. Can I come in?" 

Riley pulled the door further open and nodded curtly, stepping aside to let Graham step by him. Graham stepped easily into the room, turning to face Riley as he did. Too late, Riley saw his hand come up, holding some type of gun. A soft boom and Riley felt something enter painfully into his shoulder. He pushed forward both of them tumbling to the floor, his hands at Graham's throat, a growl escaping his lips. "Bastard! What did you do to me?" His voice began to slur toward the end, and his hands and body went slack. He found himself unable to move. 

Graham shoved him aside roughly as he climbed to his feet and Riley's big body flopped lifelessly onto it's bag, lying helplessly still as he stared at his former friend with fear-filled eyes. He tried to speak, to demand to know again what was happening, but his mouth wouldn't move to form words and only meaningless sounds issued forth, his body felt gripped by a terrifying and overwhelming numbness.. Graham glanced down at Riley. "Don't bother trying to talk. Dart's don't allow it. Quiet time now." He nodded toward someone else in military array, whom Riley could only half see from his prone position on the floor. After a moment another man entered the room. Tall and slim dressed in a black suit, the man looked as non-threatening as they come. But his eyes were utterly emotionless. He gaze flicked toward Graham. 

"You're certain this is him?" The man's elegant voice was clipped, and bore an unmistakable British accent. 

"Yes, sir. Riley and I served together for quite some time. He is the slayer's current love." Graham spoke respectfully to the other man, but his voice held an undertone of derision. Riley knew Graham never could tolerate men in suits telling them what to do. 

The Englishman gestured to the man outside to shut the door, then returned his attention to Graham. He handed him a small silver knife and a crystal vial. "For your sake, I hope you're right Agent. Drain him. And be quick about it. Our sleep spell will only hold the rest of this dorm for so long." 

Riley watched as Graham slashed the small knife down his wrist. He felt nothing as the blood began to leak out, and Graham collected it in the tiny vial. After a moment Graham handed the vial and knife back. The man pocketed it and turned to leave. "Sir? What do we do about Agent Finn." 

The Englishman waves his hand in dismissal. "Kill him. Be sure the body is put where it can't be found. If the slayer tries to contact you or him, tell her Agent Finn has left on a top secret mission. She'll believe you." The man's lips curled. "After all, you are his good friend." He vanished out the door. 

Riley turned to Graham, panic in his eyes. He gurgled again, desperately trying to say "No!" Graham shook his head regretfully. "Sorry brother." He pulled a small gun out of a holster at his side and fired. 

Riley felt nothing, and as his world began to darken. He managed to speak a bit, though Graham didn't understand him. "I should have stayed with her." Then his world went black. 

Prodding Riley's lifeless body with his foot, Graham sighed in disappointment. "Didn't have to be like this Riley. You didn't leave us much choice though. Good luck next time around." He stepped out the door. He turned to the man standing there. "Clean up the mess. Have the body incinerated. Pack all his personal belongings and dispose of them the same way. It's to look as if he packed up and left." The man nodded in understanding and Graham left. He went out to the Cadillac parked outside and sat down in the back beside the suit-clad Englishman. "So now we're ready?" 

The man flicked away invisible lint on his jacket and sniffed disdainfully. "Nearly. We're only lacking for a few things now. We should be ready in good time. Make sure you and your boys are ready too. Or they'll be worse than hell to pay." 

Graham glanced sharply at him. "Oh we're already there. We're just waiting on you." 

The Englishman glanced out the window at the full moon. "Not long left to wait now."   
  


____________________________________________________________________________** **


	7. The Left Behind

Author's Note: This part was long in coming due to me being too busy to write. It's also late due to me being completely blocked for a few days. I'm still not happy with this part, and will probably edit it in the future, but I thought those of you following the story might want to see it regardless. For any bilingual people out there, I do NOT speak French. I used a translator, which means it could say something very different from what I intended. If so, my apologies. Thanks again to my readers and reviewers.   
  


**Part Six**

**The Left Behind**

**We can't all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by.**

**-- Will Rogers**   
  


Willow hefted the final book into the large suitcase at her feet, gazing doubtfully at it's overstuffed contents. "Giles . . . . . even if we get this closed no one is going to be able to lift it. Do we really need all of these books. I-I mean, is "History of Dominant Pixies, 6th addition" really going to be the book that solves all of our problems? 

"Willow, I haven't the faintest idea what we could be dealing with, and I refuse to fail at . . . whatever it is we're going to do simply because I failed to bring the one book I needed. Now come here and sit on this while I try to close it." 

"Well when you put it that way . . . . " Willow sat on the top of the case, Giles puffing with exertion as he tried to close the clasp. Tara came and sat beside her, Cordelia pushing helpfully down on both of their shoulders, despite loud exclamations of pain from Willow. Finally they managed to shut it, Giles falling back into a chair, red faced with effort. Willow eyed the bag and then smiled at Giles. "Right . . . so . . . ready to carry it out the car?" 

Giles shot her a sour look. "Why don't we wait for Buffy? Or one of the other people running around with bloody superpowers. Us mortals can sit and have a bit of tea." 

Willow laughed at him. "You go ahead Giles. Us mortal Americans like our tea heavily flavored with coffee." She went to go make some, leaving Tara perched on the suitcase. 

"Umm . . . . Mr-Mr. Giles? Did you forget to pack this one?" Tara held up a tattered book bearing the title "Hexes and Curses of the 13th Century" 

Giles groaned and fell melodramatically back in his chair, his hand coming up to pull his glasses off so he could rub his eyes tiredly. "I don't think it will hurt to leave one book here Tara, thank you." A loud HA! sound came floating from the kitchen. "And DO be quiet Willow." 

Cordelia settled on a stool near the kitchen, automatically smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt as she sat. "Does anybody have ANY idea exactly what we're doing here?" 

Wesley glanced up from his position on the couch, where he'd been immersed in a large incomprehensible leather bound book. "I imagine we're going to go to England and confront the Council in their headquarters." 

Cordelia snorted, causing Willow, who'd just emerged from the kitchen precariously balancing three cups of coffee to look at her in abject amusement over the inelegance of the sound. "Thanks for the tip Mr. Obvious. I meant what are WE going for? I understand why Buffy, and the beauty sleep queen need to go, but why the rest of us? Granted Angel could be a great deal of help . . . . and I guess Willow and . . . . Tara, isn't it? Could do spells and stuff." Her voice trailed off. "Shouldn't we be staying here? Ya know, battening down the hatches and all? Fighting the old fight while they're off fighting a new one?" She nodded her thanks to Willow as she took one of the coffees the other girl offered. 

Wesley sighed heavily. "Cordelia, YOU are going because should the powers that be decide to help with this situation, you will be able to guide Buffy and Kat according to what your vision says. Angel is going to help protect Buffy, as he always does when she truly needs him. And I . . . . well . . ." 

Giles spoke up as Wesley trailed uncertainly off. "Wesley and I are going along to drive, so you bloody wrong sided Americans don't destroy EVER historical landmark in England." 

Tara spoke distractedly as she magically swirled her coffee around until it was well blended. "Spike could drive. He's British . . . . " She looked up, seeing Wesley's look of dismay. "Or not, I mean, who-who would want Spike to drive." She flushed a bit and looked down. Willow patted her consolingly on the back. 

Cordelia continued. "Exactly! YOU don't even know why you're going. If you ask me-" 

"I don't recall that anyone did." 

She glared briefly at Wesley for his interruption and then resumed. "AS I was saying, If you ask me, you should be staying here, and helping Gunn. And so should I! That way if, god forbid, anything happens, there's still someone in LA who knows about all the bumpy faced weirdos running around at night, and can do something to fight them. If we all bought it on an elaborate trip across the pond, then what happens?" 

Wesley sat up and looked toward Giles. "Much as it pains me to admit it, Cordelia is right. Do you think we should stay here? Tell Buffy and Angel our feelings on this?" 

"Tell Angel whatever you like Wesley, I'll be going with Buffy. There are people who know the situation in Sunnydale and could . . . fill in should anything occur that we failed to plan for." Giles walked into the kitchen and poured himself and Wesley a cup of the tea Willow had also prepared while in the kitchen. 

"Rupert, you're not looking at this rationally." 

"I'm perfectly rational. In a . . . irrational sort of way." He shoved the tea cup at Wesley, who took it with a muffled curse as a bit of it splashed onto his arm. Giles ignored Wesley's pain and continued. "Buffy has never faced the Council in numbers like she will in England, and I'll not let her face them alone." 

"She'll hardly be alone. She'll have Angel, and Kat, and Spike. And probably others as well." 

"Angel, Kat, and Spike are all vampires, and will hardly lend her any credibility when she goes with them to argue her stability with them." Giles sat down heavily at the table, idly thumbing through a notebook covered with badly handwritten notes. "And for all that her story sounds true, we know very little of Kat, or why she's here." 

Willow looked at Giles, concern darkening her bright eyes. "You don't believe her Giles?" 

Tara looked surprised. "But, she showed us a movie and everything. I mean, that's hard to do when you're lying." She pushed her long hair back from her face with one hand and fidgeted nervously as everyone's attention turned to her. "Me-memory charms are very highly evolved spells, and what she did seemed more like a natural talent than any set sp-spell. I mean, if it was spell I could understand it being false. But it seemed like she just played out her past for us. It would take e-enormous amounts of control to make a memory false." 

Willow squeezed her hand encouragingly. "Tara's right. We worked on memory spells a while ago. It's really hard to make one even skip something . . . . such as childhood incidents involving training bras and socks that you'd rather not be divulged to the general pub- umm . . . so anyways, yeah. Memory charms hard." 

Tara stifled a laugh and Cordelia rolled her eyes heavenward with a heavy put-upon sigh. 

"It does seem a bit far-fetched to go flitting across the ocean on the word of a . . . . creature we've never even really heard of. And what little we do know is, according to the Council's sketchy history, extremely negative. Granted the Council wouldn't be the best resource in this instance, but it is the only one we have. And while I'd be the first one to admit that the Council has it's problems and it's strong-arm tendencies, I've never believed them to be truly evil. They've done a great deal of good for people since their inception." 

Giles sipped carefully at his tea. "Wesley, you've come a remarkably long way since you parted ways with the Council." He paused to sip again from the cup with intentionally irritating slowness. "However, you are still an idiot." 

"I beg your pardon, I've been doing a great deal of important work in LA. I'm not longer the inexperienced Watcher Rupert. I've been a rogue demon hunter and then worked with Angel on a number of cases . ." 

"He wore LEATHER. And he rides a motorcycle now!" Cordelia interrupted with a huge grin. "And one time, when Angel wasn't there, Wesley put on his coat and pretended-" 

"Cordelia please. I AM trying to have a conversation here." 

"Well excuse me for breathing." Cordelia leaned over to whisper confidentially to Willow, who was trying with little success to hide a grin. "I have pictures. Remind me to show you later." 

"Cordelia's unwelcome interjections aside, what did you mean Rupert? Or were you just randomly insulting me with no purpose whatsoever?" 

Giles ran a hand tiredly through his hair. "I apologize for the insult. But you are wrong about the Council. You were a trusting student of the Council Wesley. I'd been 'Ripper' for too long to walk in and welcome all the rules with open arms. I did some digging. I found out a great deal of unsavory things about the Council and their past . . . and present activities. There IS a great deal of good in them, and many of them do have only the right in their minds. But there are those who wish to use the Council for their own gain. I would trust some members of the Council with my life . . . and with Buffy's life. But I wouldn't trust the Council as a whole to dry clean my jacket." 

Even Willow looked shocked at this. "Then why did you work for them for so long? And . . . that whole test thing when Buffy turned 18?" 

"Because they'd been doing things that way for so many years, and because those whom I did trust kept insisting it was necessary. I should have left many years sooner." He shrugged. "But if I had, I might never have been sent to Sunnydale. I wasn't the best qualified, or most trustworthy Watcher they had trained. But Buffy had already developed a reputation for being hard to deal with. So they sent me, hoping my . . . . sordid past would help me deal with an unorthodox slayer." He smiled a bit. "And they were probably right." 

Wesley cleared his throat. "So . . . you believe the council to be capable of casting that spell on Buffy, as Katerina said?" 

"Oh yes. They're more than capable of something like that. But I also know that Kat hasn't told us even half of the story. She might not even know the rest of it herself, but whether or not she does, there's something else going on. I don't doubt that at all." 

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak and then sucked in a sharp breath and slid with a crash to the floor in a tense, spastic pile. Her voice rose in a shrill cry and her hands clawed desperately at her head. The four other occupants of the room leaped up in synchronized panic to aid her, Giles getting there first. He grasped her hands and pulled them away before she hurt herself. Wesley knelt next to her, trying to pillow her head against the floor. 

"Wha-What's wrong with her?" Tara stood in shock, her hands clasped in front of her. Willow stood beside her, pale and worried as she stared at Cordelia's pained face. 

Wesley glanced away from her for a moment. "Cordelia is a seer. She has vision sent by the powers that be. They always cause her a great deal of physical pain, but I've never seen one this violent before, or one that lasted so long." He stared worriedly at Cordelia, who still thrashed helplessly, caught in the thrall of nightmares only she could see. 

Finally she sagged bonelessly still, her breath short and her face deadly pale. She looked at Wesley with teary eyes. "God . . . that hurt." Wesley helped her sit up and let her catch her breath a moment. 

"Cordelia, what did you see." 

She looked at him, then glanced around, the tears in her eyes spilling over and running unchecked down her cheeks. "Us. Wesley, I saw us. It was so horrible. . . . . I could feel it happening. Feel what they felt, what I felt. See what was happening, where we were . . ." 

Giles helped her to her feet and walked her carefully to the couch, the others clustering around her to hear. "Cordelia, slow down. Tell us what you saw exactly." 

She took a deep breath. "I saw us, we were in . . . . a warehouse or something. Something big and empty that smelled like moldy cheese left to rot. There were people all around us, but . . . they weren't people. They were figures. These faceless things with hoods and big yellow eyes that stared without blinking. And then we were tied and there was blood and screams and pain. I watched them kill us . . . all of us, even myself. And then they stopped, and we lay there dead, but I could still watch from somewhere else. An the hooded . . .guys stepped back and moved aside and Buffy stepped through them. Except it wasn't her. Angel stood behind her, tied and she turned to him and held out her hand. One of Them handed her a sword and she swung . . . and his head came off . . and then there was just dust. She turned and looked at us . . . and one of the hooded figures stepped beside her and pulled down it's hood . . and it was Kat. The whole scene started to turn misty and dissipate, and Buffy looked at me, where I watched her, and said something I didn't understand. It sounded like it was in French. And then I was here, watching us sitting around Giles living room, saying goodbye to Kat and Buffy and Angel as they left. And then there was all these flashes . . of us fighting in LA, of Willow doing spells in Giles kitchen . . . random things. And then I saw myself, in black, staring at a picture of a battlefield covered with corpses. Only the corpses all bore Buffy and Angel's face. And then I looked at myself and I said the same French thing Buffy had said. And then there was . . . a jumble. A series of images that tumbled onto each other. I couldn't see anything . . . but I could see everything. There was so much. I remember looking at Kat in a vampire face, feeding on someone. And then Buffy, in the same scene, all vampire bumpy too. There was Spike bleeding in a gray room, and Angel somewhere . . . wearing a cross. Then there were these two . . . blue people wearing white, throwing a deck of cards at me. And finally I saw Angel, looking at me. He was covered in blood and he looked . . . empty. He looked at me and said "She who walks alone must remain so. All is still unwritten, but heed us well." And then it was over." 

Giles stared at her in confusion and alarm. "So you saw . . . . a montage of things? I understood that your visions were usually very specific? Are they usually so vague and varied?" 

Wesley shook his head. "Cordelia's visions are often elusive and maddeningly obtuse, but they are never so involved and long . . . and contradictory." 

Tara left and came back a moment later, holding a cold washcloth. She offered it silently to Cordelia, who took it with a grateful half-smile that more closely resembled a grimace. "Wesley, it's my head. I think I can answer questions about MY visions better than you." 

He ignored her. "I just don't understand . . ." 

"But I do." They all turned, Cordelia peering between them from her perch on the couch. Angel and Kat stood framed in the doorway, their faces grave. 

"You know what Cordelia's vision means, Angel?" Giles looked doubtfully at the tall vampire. 

Angel crossed the room purposefully, assessing Cordelia, who had closed her eyes and pressed the washcloth to her head, dark circles already forming beneath her eyes. "Are you alright Cordy?" 

She nodded and smiled. "Sure. I'm fine, unless you count the symphony of smashing rocks inside my head." He put a hand on her shoulder in a brief squeeze. He shot a quick worried glance toward Kat. Cordelia looked awful, he'd never seen her look so bad after a vision. Kat smiled reassuringly in answer. 

Angel sighed and sank into the sofa beside Cordelia. "Do you remember what Buffy said to you during your dream? And the thing you said to yourself?" 

Cordelia frowned. "I never was very good at French. It was . . . . 'On vous a accordé l'avertissement. Ce qui pourrait être soyez, si il disparaît inaperçu' I think. It was hard to remember. And when Buffy said it, she sorta hissed when she spoke." 

Both Watchers looked stunned, Willow thought for a moment, then brightened. "Oh! I know what that means . . . . something like 'You were granted warning, what could be will be should it go unheeded.' That really doesn't sound good., does it?" 

Angel sat forward. "It's a warning not to take you . . . maybe even us to England. The Slayers were always called 'she who walks alone' If you go, you will die." 

Tara frowned in confusion. "Wh-why would the warning be in French?" 

Giles glanced at her and thought a moment. "The last true recorded prophet was a Frenchman who lived about a hundred years ago. It may be that they are using his language as it is what they used during their last true guided vision." 

"Hello, I've been having nice English visions for months now? Why suddenly with the Frog speak?" 

"From what I understand, your visions usually simply show things that will be, unless you or Angel interferes. This was different. The oracles themselves appeared, and not one, but several different scenarios were showed you. It may be that Gil-Rupert is right. The oracles are hardly one to keep up with what our current language is." 

Angel nodded in agreement. "I guess this is them telling us that we have to go alone . . . without you all. 

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Wesley, to her immense annoyance. "It wasn't just us dead in those scenarios Angel, it was you as well. It seems they were telling us ALL to remain behind, save the slayer . . . or slayers. And I don't understand all of it. What is the significance of the portrait?" 

"I haven't the faintest idea." 

They continued in that vein. Kat stayed where she was in the doorway, listening to them dissect Cordelia's vision. Parts of it danced beyond her comprehension, but much of it came clear. She was putting them in danger by taking them to the Council. She watched them for a moment, her eyes studying each in turn before resting for a long moment on Angel. Watching him, she knew with dread certainty that he would not remain behind while she and Buffy fought. He would come, and he would die. And it would be her fault. And she could stop it. It would be so simple. But Angel would fight her with everything in him before he let her do it. And when it was done, he would hate her. For as long as their immortal lives lasted, he would loathe the sight of her. Spike too would be furious. She didn't know if his hate would last as long, but she had a dull suspicion that it would. The thought of it churned her stomach and teared her eyes, but as she watched them, she knew that her mind was already made up. Sorrow weighing heavy on her mind, Kat crept from the room and closed the front door behind her. She closed her eyes, the words to a spell that was ancient even when Aggie taught it to her flashing before her. She raised her hands and traced the shape of the door, murmuring long-forgotten phrases beneath her breath. The outline of the door flared a sickly green and then faded. She carefully opened the door without stepping inside. It's occupants were slouched in the positions they had been in before she walked out, heads lolling and mouths gaping as the breathed deeply and rhythmically in the throes of a deep magically induced sleep. She peered carefully at Angel, insuring that the spell had worked on his vampiric constitution. She couldn't remember whether it was suited to vampires or not. Reassured that he was indeed deeply asleep, Kat pulled the door softly closed. She stared at the closed door for a moment. "Forgive me Angel." 

She turned, the first lights of dawn picked their way through the clouds and struck her face, making her silver eyes shine with an oddly golden tint. She sighed and began to walk away when her eyes fell on a familiar lanky figure leaning against a tree, it's outstretched limbs hiding him from the encroaching sunlight. She cursed silently as one dark eyebrow arched upward beneath his platinum hair. "Well pet . . . we have been naughty haven't we?" 

"I can explain Spike." 

"Oh I'm all ears. Let me guess, you were just trying to arrange a little alone time for us, right?" He smiled a crooked, slightly evil smile. "All you had to do was ask luv, and I'm all yours." 

She laughed a bit. "Oh shut up blondie. How often do you do your roots by the way? 'Cause I'm starting to see a hint of brown up there." 

He gave her a feigned offended look. "What are you talking about? This is all Spike Kitten." 

She snorted. "Yeah, sure." 

His face grew more serious. "What are you doing Kat? Is something wrong? I don't much care what happens to most of the buggers in there, but I don't like being kept in the dark. Now what's going on." 

She looked at him sadly, her mind blank and empty, wishing she could tell him the truth. "Spike . . . . you'll find out soon enough. Go inside, it's nearly daylight." 

He crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. "I'll stand here and burn to cinders unless I get some answers Kitten." 

She sighed heavily and pushed the door open behind her. "Come in and I'll show you." 

Spike smirked at her. "Do I look like a raging idiot to you?" 

"Shall I answer that?" 

He pondered a moment. "Really rather you didn't." He stepped forward authoritatively. "Now tell me right now what's going on or I'll- HEY!" 

He yelled in surprise as Kat swept forward with blinding swiftness and flung herself behind him, flinging him through the open door with all the power of her slayer heritage. He flew briefly landing well inside the threshold with bruising force. She watched him quietly as he looked at her with a stunned look of betrayal. Her voice was quiet when she spoke. "I'm sorry Spike. I never meant you any harm." He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a yawn. He slumped prone onto the floor caught in the same sleep that held the others. She watched him for a moment. "I'm so sorry my friend." She pulled the door shut, locking the sleepers inside with a quick murmured magical phrase. And then she left, following Buffy's scent toward the slayer's home.   
  


____________________________________________________________________________ 


	8. Puppeteers

Author's Note: This section was written before the Checkpoint episode of Buffy was broadcast. It has no effect on this story. This story is written pretty much during season five, but does not have Glory or any of the current "Big Bad" storylines. If you've been reading, you've probably already realized that it also happened before Into the Woods. Also, since these parts are kept together because of the new Chaptering system (which I really like by the way.) I'm no longer putting a disclaimer on each section. So if you want to sue me, please note that there IS disclaimers on this story, just not on every chapter. Thanks to all who've been reading and reviewing. Please keep it up! I love having some incentive to write from people who actually enjoy what I'm creating.   
  


#### **Part Seven**

#### **Puppeteers **

###### ** "Here we may reign secure, and in my choice**

###### **To reign is worth ambition though in hell:**

###### **Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven."**

###### **-- John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book 1**

  
  


Sunlight reflected off the mirrored windows of the immense building, turning it into a giant blinding pillar of light, obscuring all but a rudimentary knowledge of its shape. High in it's hidden lofts, a man stood staring out of his window. He watched the ant-like people milling the streets below on their way to their tiny jobs, going about their daily life. He smiled slowly and shook his head, marveling at the blissful ignorance the lived in. How little they knew of the world around them. And how much less they knew about the world that towered in mirrored brilliance above him. 

He turned from his vantage point as the door clicked open behind him. He came forward to perch on the edge of his immense desk, his pale eyes assessing the intruders in his office. He smiled in welcome. "Welcome my friends, I trust the drive was pleasant?" 

The taller of the two men stepped forward, folding himself gracefully into one of the two plush leather chairs arrayed in front of the desk, fussily adjusting the crease of his trousers. "Ghastly actually. Gridlocked traffic at five in the morning. I honestly can't understand how you people manage to get around in this country Holland." His clipped British voice was harsh with irritation. He flicked his dark eyes backwards at the other man. "Good Lord Graham, this isn't the army. Sit down for heaven's sake. You're making me nervous, hovering about back there." 

The other man hesitated and than came forward, sitting down stiffly beside his English companion. Holland regarded him for a moment, then turned his attention back to the other. "We manage Richard, it just takes getting used to. Care for some tea?" 

"Certainly, thank you Holland." 

"My pleasure. And you Agent? Care for some tea or coffee or anything." 

Graham sank a bit more comfortably into his chair, running a hand through his short hair tiredly. "No thank you sir." 

"No? Perhaps another time then. And please, call me Holland. We're all friends here." 

There was a moment's pause as Holland buzzed his secretary, politely requesting some tea and coffee be brought in. When his stunning secretary carried in a tray, her eyes lingering appreciatively on Graham in his green military fatigues, he thanked her and busied himself serving Richard a cup of tea and fixing a cup of heavily sugared coffee for himself. He took it and settled back down, this time sitting himself behind his desk and leaning forward, arms folded on the desk. "Well boys, can you tell me what I want to hear?" 

Richard sipped delicately from his cup, than lowered it, sitting up and smiling faintly. He pulled the tiny vial out from the inner pockets of his jacket. He tossed it with disdainful casualness over the desk to Holland, who caught it with a look of delight. "Almost ridiculously easy. Graham here had me worried with all his talk of what a superior agent Finn was. Turned out the lion was nothing but a declawed house cat, thanks to the slayer, I suspect." 

Holland examined the vial closely. "Excellent, Excellent. Very well done. And Angel?" 

"My men kept close track of him. He is definitely back in Sunnydale with the slayer and a number of other civilians, including the seer and former Watcher who work with him. We weren't able to get a mic close enough to hear all of their conversations, but we did have the current slayer's house, and that of her Watcher bugged. Everything seems to be going according to plan." 

Setting the vial carefully aside, Holland sat back with a pleased smile on his face. "And the target? I take it she is awake and well adjusted to our society, thanks to the effort of our dear departed friend Tim. May he rest in peace in whatever dustbin he currently resides in. She is in Sunnydale? And, I hope, informing them all of the Council's diabolical plans?" 

"From what we recorded, the information was well planted. She believes the Council to be planning an attack on Buffy. They seem to be planning an all out war on the Council." Graham smiled a bit. 

With a delighted chuckle Holland jumped up from behind his desk, looking back out the window again. "It's so rare that a plan comes to such lovely fruition. The Slayers will take care of the Council for us. I doubt they will destroy them. It took an army last time, after all, but they will distract them from their tiresome attentions toward us. They were becoming quite an irritating thorn in our side with their constant roadblocks in the way of our more . . . . exotic projects. And then our own little Twilight will take care of our little vampire problem for us." 

Graham cleared his throat nervously. "Sir-ah, Holland, what makes you think Katerina will act against Angel in any way? She seems very attached to him. Even if we manage to turn her to our side, I doubt she would kill Angel for us." 

Holland turned to face him, his smile stretching even wider. "Dear boy, we don't want her to kill him. Angel is essential for . . . future events this firm has an interest in. No, we have no intention of killing Angel off." He walked over and lovingly tapped the vial on his desk. "No, what we want to do is bring the slayers into a different stage of the game." He rubbed his hands together happily. "With the help of our dear friend Richard, who recently liberated himself from the Council, the slayers will give in to their, ah, primal urges. And who better to bring Angel over to the dark side than the woman who taught him how to survive with a soul in the first place, and the girl who took his soul away once before." He settled back into his chair. "Angel is a fool for love friends, as we well know. He protects his idiotic friends with rabid intensity. How much further will he go to protect Katerina and Buffy . . . . or to protect Buffy FROM Katerina? Either way, even if this fails, Angel will be far too busy to pay attention to what we're doing, here in big old LA." 

Holland smiled in self-satisfaction. This had been his plan, in the works for nearly ten years, when first Richard had come to him and told him of The Eternal Twilight, who slept in a glass tomb. He'd waited patiently for the girl to wake, swinging things into abrupt motion when Buffy had killed The Master, assuring that his tool would awaken earlier then expected. He'd had the Wolfram & Heart mind reader's find him a vampire and ensure his loyalty to the firm with their unique brain-washing abilities. He'd been patient and thorough, weaving the various threads together to gain Wolfram & Heart and new and powerful ally, whether she was willing or not. And then when Angel had become a problem, Holland had discovered their relationship, again through Richard's careful spying through the Council's records. And he had changed the plan again to include the firm's newest nemesis. Now it was all coming together. The senior partners would be more than pleased. 

He turned to Richard, his smile fading a bit. "And what of the . . . other issues, they have been resolved?" 

Richard smirked a bit. "Of course. All other security leaks have been handled as you ordered. Save one, naturally." 

Holland nodded congenially to Richard. "Naturally. Whatever would I do without you Richard?" 

Graham's eyes flicked uncertainly between the two men. "What other security leaks" 

Holland leaned forward and buzzed his secretary. "Send them in Jean." He turned his attention to Graham. "Nothing you should concern yourself with Agent." The door to the office clicked open and four cloaked figures stepped through. Graham, with a sudden flash of intuition jumped out of his chair, backing slowly away. Holland stepped out of the way as the black cloaked figures swept quickly forward and secured Graham with green clawed fingers around his arms. He smiled lazily. "It's been a pleasure working with you Agent, a shame we didn't have time for that cup of coffee." One of the creatures reached it's scaly hands forward and gripped Graham's head. He paled and struggled fruitlessly. With a sickening snap of bones, Graham's head was cruelly around. He slumped lifelessly in the creature's supporting arms. Holland waved his hand. "Thank you Gentlemen. You know how to dispose of that I take it." The creature's nodded their hooded heads and swept out of the room, carrying Graham's corpse with them. With a melodramatic sigh, Holland slumped into his chair again. "An unpleasant business that. On to other matters though. You've finished your preparations for the rituals?" 

Richard nodded, standing and helping himself to more tea. "Nearly. I'll be ready in good time for the new moon." 

Holland settled back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he thought. "Agent Graham's men . . . . they are loyal to the firm and not to their departed leader correct?" 

"Yes, yes of course. Loyal to whoever pays them and ignorant of all but the most rudimentary details. They'll pose a minimum security leak until they're no longer needed and can be eliminated." 

"The risk is acceptable, so long as they know nothing. If they have too much information they'll have to go the way of Agent Graham I'm afraid, and we'll find our information some other way." 

"That goes without saying." 

"And you're certain the Council is ignorant of all of this?" 

"The Council is, as always, a circus of buffoons" Richard sneered in disgust. "Those with intelligence are focused on bigger issues than the slayer . . . such as controlling firms like this one. Which leaves the fools free to muck up things with the slayers. The Council's current plans involve a ridiculous scheme to bring Faith back under control by springing her from prison and forcing her to undergo some time of rehabilitation. An attempt they've made before with disastrous results. The members of the council who possess half of the _**raseri av fortid**_ have some foolish idea of casting it on Buffy to put her out of commission. The true results of the spell are all but lost, and some believe it would actually work. But it will do them no good. They have only half of the spell in any case. The other half they "found" was created by me. If they attempt to cast it, it will do nothing to Buffy and instead backfire and kill it's casters." 

"Excellent. A few less Council members is all if our favor." Holland lifted his coffee cup and sipped thoughtfully. "And now we wait" He lowered the cup and reached forward to buzz his secretary. "Jean, would you call Lindsay and ask him to come see me as soon as possible?" 

"Yes sir." 

"Thank you Jean. Why don't you take a long lunch, dear? You've been working awfully hard lately. Go to that lovely little Italian restaurant on Fifth, take a friend. Put it on my tab." 

"Thank you sir! I'll do that." She cut the connection and Holland looked up to see Richard frowning at him. 

"I thought you weren't bringing him in on this? He's unpredictable Holland, it isn't a good idea." 

"Lindsey is a talented and prudent young man. And he is my second in command. It's time he was brought in. I trust him." 

Richard looked doubtful. "I hope you're right Holland." 

Holland smiled. "I am." 

____________________________________________________________________________ 


	9. The Choosing

Okay, some of you are going to hate this. I'll warn you right now. Those of you who've been sending me hateful e-mail (You know who you are) I send you a big mental wedgie. To those of you who've been nice or constructive, I say again thank you, and hang in there. I DO have a reason and a plan. Hee hee hee. Once again, I haven't had time to edit much, and will probably be making changes and edits in the future. My helpful editor friend is being uncharacteristically unhelpful. And I'm too anxious to write to take the time to edit a lot in between chapters. So my apologies for the errors. Thanks again for reading and reviewing all!   
  


### **Part Eight**

### **The Choosing**

###### "Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice: It is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." 

###### -- William Jennings Bryan

  
  


She stood on the porch of the house, collecting her thoughts. Misery hung cloak-like around her slim shoulders. Finally she raised her hand and knocked tentatively. "Just a minute" someone called from within. The door swung open and a pretty young girl with long brown hair stood there wearing a thick bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. "You DO know it's like six in the morning right? Can I help you?" 

Kat smiled a bit at the girl, noting the fact that she stood well out of reach of the doorway, something that was obviously habit in this household. The slayer had trained her family well. "Is Buffy Summers home?" 

The girl rolled her eyes. "I should have known. Only Buffy's friends would drop by unannounced in the wee hours of the morning. Don't any of you have any manners? Just a second, I'll get her." The door swung shut again and the girl's voice shouted up the stairs. "BUFFY! SOMEONE'S HERE! GET YOUR BUTT DOWNSTAIRS!!" 

Kat listened uncomfortably as footsteps came down the stairs and the two had a mild argument about the girl's inability to walk up the stairs to get her sister. Then the door opened again and Buffy stepped forward, her face quickly turning to an expression of concern as she saw Kat standing there. "Kat? I was going to head back in just a few minutes. Is everything okay? What happened?" 

"Nothing happened. Your Watcher has discovered some things about the spell that he wants to discuss. The others were still busy with their research and tasks, so I volunteered to come get you. I hope that's alright?" 

"Of course. Come on in for a bit. Mom already left, we can head out as soon as Dawn gets on the bus for school." Buffy smiled faintly and lowered her voice. "If someone's not here to watch, she just won't go. She'll just pretend she fell asleep and missed the bus." 

Kat forced herself to smile in return. They sat silently in the living room as scuffling noises and occasional thuds from above told them that Dawn was getting dressed. At 6:08 Buffy walked to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up. "Dawn!!! Two minutes! You'd better be dressed otherwise I'm throwing you on that bus naked." 

Dawn thundered gracelessly down the stairs, her long hair swinging wildly behind her. She shot Buffy a dirty look. "That would be a serious abuse of slayer powers, and I would tell Mr. Giles on you." 

Buffy grinned and ruffled her hair. "You do that. Now go, Bus is here." Dawn glanced out the window and shrieked in alarm as the bus began pulling it's doors closed. She ran quickly outside with a careless goodbye wave for her sister. She watched until the bus re-opened it's doors and Dawn climbed aboard. The bus pulled away and Buffy sighed and walked back over to Kat, smiling faintly "That girl is a mess. I don't know how she hasn't given us all a nervous breakdown yet. Everyday she makes it through without killing herself is a miracle." 

Kat watched as Buffy gathered the bags she'd packed and put on the sofa. "You love her?" 

Buffy looked at her uncertainly. "Well . . .yeah, she's my sister. Of course I do." 

Silver eyes studied the her with the insightfulness born of a long life. "Something happened after you left me last night . . . . . what is it? Riley?" 

Refusing to meet those strange eyes, Buffy looked out the window instead. "It's . . . .nothing. Riley and I fought. He's not coming with us. It's probably all for the best in the long run . . . but it hurts to not have him here I guess." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be. I guess I've always known that this wouldn't last. It's been too . . . . normal. Riley wants parts of me that I'm not free to give. I've offered him everything I have available. All the parts of my heart that aren't taken. And it wasn't enough for him. I can't blame him. He wants what a normal girl could give him." She was silent for a moment. "But I'm not normal. And I did what I could. And even though it's horrible of me to say it . . . . a part of me is glad to see him go. I've been so confused for so long, and when he walked out it gave me this great sense of relief. Like I was finally free. If he'd stayed with me, he would have died. Now at least he has a chance of staying alive." 

Kat rose silently from her chair and came to stand behind Buffy. "Slayers are not always free to be what other people are. Perhaps your Riley couldn't live with that. If so, it's better he left now than later when all that's left of what you felt is resentment." Buffy didn't turn, watching instead as Giles' car pulled slowly in front of her house. 

"I know. It just doesn't seem quite fair. I think we got the short straw in fate's lottery." Xander stepped from the car and began walking toward the front door. 

A tear slid with agonizing slowness down Kat's pale cheek. "It IS unfair. I am so sorry Buffy" 

"It's not your fault." 

"But so many things are, and for those things I can never be forgiven. Just as I will never be forgiven for this." With all the speed of her heritage, Kat leapt forward and grabbed Buffy by the throat. The young slayer tried to fight, but Kat was stronger, and Buffy was utterly unprepared and physically and mentally exhausted. For the first time since The Master had turned her, Kat voluntarily willed her face to change and her fangs to emerge, and lowered her head to feed on human blood. 

Buffy struggled and then stilled, blood pounding in her ears and emotions running rampant through her mind. Hurt, betrayal, disbelief all thundered through her mind, before a strange sense of acceptance came through and she went limp. The constant problems that plagued her, vampires, death, friends, love, hate, Riley, Angel . . . .they all began to fade from her mind as Kat's fangs pierced her neck and her blood began to leave her. She closed her eyes, wondering idly why there wasn't any pain. Tears slid from her clear green eyes. She didn't cry for herself, she cried for those she left behind; those who would miss her and would hate the creature who crouched over her, taking her life. The creature who was so much like Buffy herself, and whose whispered apology came clear now. In the hazy slowness of her ebbing life, Buffy forced her eyes back open and looked at Kat, licking her lips and whispering softly. "I understand." Realizing as she spoke the words that they were true. She did understand. 

Kat didn't hear her. From the moment the blood had touched her lips, Kat had been transported into a flailing and painful ecstasy as the darker demon half that dwelled within her howled in triumph and beat resoundingly upon the edges of the cage she held her in. She felt the blood flowing into her like a fountain of unbelievable strength. Intoxicating, addicting, powerful; she had never known it would feel like this. She felt Buffy's heart slowing and for a moment she failed, and the other side of her took control and gazed out at Buffy's slowly dying face with triumph. She controlled it forcibly and shoved Buffy away from her with a sob, crouching back and howling with the pain of her darker side's demands. Her face shifted back to it's normal planes as the door to Buffy's house burst open and Xander came flying through, yelling Buffy's name and looking desperately around for a weapon as he saw what was happening. 

Buffy pushed herself up onto her elbows with a surge of effort, looking into Kat's eyes. Kat brought her wrist to her mouth and bit deeply, blood blossomed in a red river from the wound. She held it out toward Buffy. The darkness within her, both slayer and demon screamed in fury at her but she ignored them. Buffy looked at her, the light in her eyes fading and her face free of comprehension. Kat forced herself to speak. "Buffy . . . choose. Drink and live, or die. It is your choice." 

Buffy's voice was breathy and soft. "But . . . my soul . . . ." 

"You can do what I did. I will help you. You will not lose your soul if your fight and believe that you can keep it." 

Buffy's thoughts rattled haphazardly around her, flitting out of her reach as she tried to understand them. She knew what she should choose. She knew what her friends would tell her to do. But the thought of that fight, of struggling -again- to survive . . . she was just so tired. 

Kat watched the other girl, seeing the path of her thoughts and dreading the decision she knew would be made. "Buffy . . .." 

Buffy opened her mouth to refuse, to chose oblivion, when her hazy vision cleared and she saw Xander, his face streaked with tears and a stake held in his hand, standing behind Kat, his murderous intentions forgotten, obviously having heard what Kat had said. "Xander . . . . no . . . . don't." She didn't want him to watch. Didn't want him to see her give up. 

He leapt forward, kneeling beside her and holding her head in his arms. "Buffy . . . please . . . stay." He knew he should let her go, that she wouldn't want to live a vampire's life. But his world was crashing in around him and he didn't want to lose her. She was the light in all of their lives; the only thing that gave them hope throughout the constant rain of evil and pain and death, though they never told her. 

She stared at him, her eyes studying his pleading face. She pushed herself up with the last of her strength and grasped Kat's outstretched hand. She lowered her mouth and began to drink. 

Kat's body shook with the effort to not yank her hand away as Buffy drew all of that extra power away. Xander stared at her with hate-filled eyes as Buffy pulled a new life back into herself. Finally her head drew away she dropped Kat's hand. Kat collapsed to her knees, staring as Buffy screamed with pain, her blonde head shaking and her eyes screwed shut against the light. She reached out with her mind. Showing Buffy again the scene when so long ago, The Master had done the same thing to her. She spoke to her, entreating her to remember who she was, and what she was. Buffy rocked back and forth, her skin paling as the heat slowly left her body. It seemed hours before her body began to finally unclench. Kat reached out again, desperately trying to see whether Buffy had succeeded in keeping her soul, or whether the darkness had won out over her will. Finally the girl's eyes opened, and Kat gasped in disbelief and despair as she saw that behind the newly silver tinted eyes, there lurked something that was not Buffy. She jumped forward and pushed Xander away. He flew backwards, crashing against the wall with a dull thud and sliding to the floor. The strange silver eyes flickered and Buffy cried out "Xander!" her voice worried. Kat looked again, and this time she saw Buffy looking back. She melted in relief as the other girl rose and went to help Xander to his feet. Kat pushed herself tiredly up, her knees still trembling as she stood. 

Buffy came to stand before her, Xander beside her. Xander's face was screwed up in an expression of pure hatred and fury, but there was no condemnation in Buffy, only a strange calm and a great sadness, and within those newly changed eyes, Kat saw Buffy looking back. She had won, and a thousand questions ran through her mind, but when she spoke, it was only a single word. "Why?" 

Kat studied her as she stood in a patch of full sunlight. Part of her noted that Buffy too seemed immune to the vampire's curse, but the rest of her was too tired to do anything but answer her. She spoke just as briefly. "The _**raseri av fortid." **_

Buffy nodded in understanding. "It only works on the living." 

"I'm so sorry Buffy." 

Buffy hesitated and then began to speak, but whatever she was going to say was lost as Xander interrupted. "You should be. There were other ways. You didn't have to do this! You gave her no choice. Dead or Undead is not a decision she should have had to make!" He was so furious he shook. Buffy laid a hand on his shoulder, her eyes growing ever sadder as he winced away from her touch. 

Kat didn't try to defend herself. She knew it was useless. This boy wouldn't be the only one to hate her for what she'd done. She'd known that from the beginning. She swallowed hard, regretting what she'd done but knowing that if she'd had to do it over, she'd do the same thing. 'Go to your Watcher's home. Do not go inside. Open the door and say "Sleeping house Awaken. They will explain what has happened." 

Buffy reached forward and gripped Kat by the shoulder, forcing her to turn back and look at her_**. "**_I already know. I saw it when you . . . . when we . . . when I changed. I understand . . . and if things had been different I would have done the same thing." 

Kat looked at her in astonished gratefulness. Suddenly, to her own surprise and Xander's obvious disgust, she reached forward and gave Buffy a short hard hug. "I'm sorry . . . but thank you. You may need to feed Buffy. Obviously sunlight isn't forbidden to you, but this is still new territory. Be careful around people until you find out for certain. Angel will help you. I have to go." She ran a finger gently around Buffy's eyes. "Many things have changed Buffy, some you do not yet know or understand. Be careful and be vigilant, and do not expect too much too quickly." She turned and left, disappearing quickly down the street. Buffy turned to face Xander, but her eyes strayed to the mirror behind him, where she saw his back reflected, and beside him- nothing. In that moment all that had happened overwhelmed her, and Buffy collapsed to the floor sobbing, as Xander awkwardly tried to comfort her.   
  


____________________________________________________________________________ 


	10. Aftermath

Author's Note: Thanks to all my readers, and to those new reader's who've been kind enough to send such encouraging reviews and e-mails. You are all sweet as pie. Some of you may already have noticed that I've done some editing on a few past chapters, so if a few glaring errors bothered you immensely the first time you read, hopefully I caught most of them by now. If not, I'll catch them eventually, hopefully. As I will with this part, which has, again, had only a bare-bones editing job done by me, who was in a hurry to get started on the next part. So forgive all the mistakes, and feel free to e-mail (adena@atlantic.net) me if you see any that just bug the hell out of you. Thanks again all! 

### **Part Nine**

### **Aftermath**

###### ** And if you look, you look through me**

###### **And when you talk, you talk at me**

###### **And when I touch you, you don't feel a thing**

###### **--U2 "Stay(Faraway, So Close)**

  
  


They sat in stunned silence, perched in various positions and poses about Giles' small living room. Each seemed unwilling to speak, as if to speak were to acknowledge fully what had happened, and none of them was ready for that. It was incomprehensible to them. Each stared at Buffy in confused fascination until she looked back at them, then they dropped their eyes and looked away, unable to face the face whose familiar planes had suddenly taken on an edge that made her so different from the girl they knew so well, and whose eyes had suddenly become as alien as the woman who had done this to her. It was Xander who finally spoke. The extra time he'd had to absorb the truth helping him overcome the shock. "Giles . . . there's a way to undo this isn't there? Some ancient forbidden secret Watcher mind trick that will change a vampire back? She had no right to do this . . . . it can't just be the way it is." 

Giles cleared his throat nervously, trying to hide the misery that had begun to claw at his chest as soon as he'd seen that this girl who'd become like a daughter to him had suddenly had her life ripped away. "No one wishes that were so more than I Xander . . . but it simply isn't true. I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done." He forced himself to look at Buffy, who sat slumped on the sofa, her eyes downcast. "Buffy . . . . how did you keep your soul? I'm afraid I still don't understand." 

Buffy looked up and saw him watching her. She understood with startling clarity that it wasn't that Giles didn't understand . . . . it was that he didn't know whether he could believe her. It hurt to see the doubt in his eyes, but she couldn't really blame him. Though she really wished she could. "I don't know. I just . . . willed it. Kat helped as much as she could. I'm still me . . . . I'm just a different version of me. Everything feels different now." 

Angel sat with his head in his hands, his body so tense it almost shook. "I can't believe she would do this to me. . . .I thought I knew her." 

Buffy whirled to face him. "She didn't do this to YOU! She did it to me. And she had no choice." 

Willow rose to stand beside Angel, her face pale beneath her shock of red hair, her blue eyes teary. "She-she had a choice Buffy! She could have asked for help, she could have talked to us, figured out another plan . . ." 

"And what? We discuss the fact that you going to England to stop the Council will get you all killed, and probably us as well? And you all listen quietly and nod your heads and decide to sit here on your hands and do nothing while we go without you? I KNOW you. She KNOWS you . . . or at least some of you. She knew as well as I do that no matter what we did to stop you, you'd find a way to go anyway. And then you would die. She made a choice. One life instead of five, or a dozen, or how ever many would result from what we did. I may be the slayer, but if I die . . . when I died I guess . . . another slayer will be called. The fight will continue, just with a different player. She took my life to save all of yours, and then offered me a chance at a different sort of life." She quieted a moment as they stared at her. "If it had been different . . . if I'd been the one who could save you by sacrificing her . . . I'd have done it. Without thought, without question I'd have done it. I would have regretted it, or at least the necessity of it, but I would have done the same thing. I can't blame her, I don't hate her. She's . . . . so much like me." Her voice grew choked with emotion. "I -she, neither of us can escape what fate decided we should be. We're the equalizer, and as much as I hate it - as much as she hated this- sometimes it's left to us to decide who lives or dies. And we can't pick and choose, we just have to keep the numbers down. We're just cosmic damage control, and we do what we forced to do." 

Angel stood. "But you don't deserve this Buffy! You've done nothing but good, you don't deserve being imprisoned in a corpse that won't die, wondering everyday if when you wake up tomorrow, you'll still have a soul." 

Buffy stared at him, and for the first time since they'd met, as their eyes and wills did battle, Angel was the first to drop his eyes away, unable to stare at the unfamiliar silver gleam of her gaze.. When she spoke it was with a quietly fierce defiance. "It isn't a prison. Not yet. And when the day comes that it becomes one . . . . I know where the warden keeps the keys, and I'll let myself out." 

Angel winced and stared at the floor. He wanted to comfort her, to find Kat and vent his rage and grief. He wanted to do something to bury the sudden core of hope and the yawning cavern of disappointment that had been battling in his mind since Buffy had walked into the room wearing the mantle of the Undead. Instead he stood paralyzed and said nothing, willing someone else to say what he couldn't. 

Buffy glanced from one to the other and sighed. "I'm going home for a while. I need to be alone I think . . . and someone should be there later when Dawn gets home." 

Giles spoke without thinking. "Are you sure that's wise Buffy? You being alone with Dawn so soon after the change?" 

He regretted speaking instantly as he saw the flash of deep pain cross Buffy's features. She forced a smile. "Don't worry Giles. I'll stake myself before I make Dawn an after-school snack." She hesitated another moment, looking quickly around the room full of her friends, and then fled. 

As the door clicked shut behind her, everyone left in the room sagged unconsciously in their seats. Willow walking over to sit beside Tara before collapsing and Angel sinking bonelessly to the floor in a graceless sitting heap. No one spoke. No one knew what to say. After an endless moment, a voice that had been silent till now spoke from the corner of the room, where he'd been forgotten by nearly everyone present. His sharp voice was laden with disgust . . . and a hint of the sorrow he was trying to hide. "You're a lot of useless fools. You sat here and let her walk away and didn't say a word." 

Cordelia stared at him, her confusion and sadness quickly turning to annoyance with the blonde vampire. "Shut up Spike. You don't know anything about this, you threw a party and went fishing for gypsies when someone YOU knew went fangy. You don't have a clue what we're going through." 

Spike flipped a cigarette butt onto the carpet, where Giles hurriedly stomped it out with a curse. Ignoring him, Spike pulled his jacket over his head and picked up the thick dark blanket that hung over the back of the sofa. He turned back to look at everyone again, his lip curled in revulsion. "I know enough. I know that not one of you bloody lot who call yourself her friends . . . who even claim to love her! Not one of you told her that it didn't matter to you. That she was still Buffy and you didn't care what had happened, so long as she was still her. I know that she stood there and needing and waiting for someone to tell her that they it didn't matter, and they still cared for her and believed in her. And not one of you said a single word. I know that much." He spat on the carpet. "I don't care what "your going through," it's nothing compared to what she's going through. And you should know that. Some sodding friends you are." He yanked open the door and pulled the doubled-over blanket over his head as well, muttering profanities under his breath as he ran, smoke drifting from him in faint sizzling clouds, full out for the nearest sewer entrance. With any luck, he'd be to Buffy's house before Buffy herself got there.   
  


****************************************************************************   
  


The door slammed shut behind Spike with an echoing crash. Those who remained behind stared dumbly at it for a moment, each wondering who would be the first to speak. Finally Xander, with an irritated expression pointed toward the door and cleared his throat. "Much as it pains me to admit it, and you all know that it WILL cause me intense physical pain, Spike was right. We're horrible, horrible people." 

Wesley shook his head faintly. "Well I rather think that's a bit of an overstatement of fact. We were simply a bit slow to react or-" Seeing Giles expression out of the corner of his eyes, Wesley interrupted himself mid-sentence. "Or we're horrible people." 

Xander nodded in agreement, and after a moment Willow and Tara did as well. Tara looked particularly guilty, obviously thinking of Buffy's acceptance of her supposed half-demon status, even if it had proved to be a lie. Even Cordelia looked subdued and a bit ashamed. Angel still sat in silence, looking as if his world had come to its final end. 

Willow looked quickly at him, wondering if he even heard anything any of them were saying. "We should go after her. Tell her it's okay, and we still want her to be with us and all." 

Giles shook his head faintly. "No. We missed our first chance. And I think, ah, she should probably have a chance to be alone. I doubt she's had time to . . . . absorb what's happened. She may need time to think in peace." Especially after she talks to Spike, he silently added. 

"But she needs us! We shouldn't just let her go off alone thinking we're abandoning her. I'm going, whether or not-" 

"No." Angel pushed himself to his feet with a seemingly phenomenal effort and cut Xander off in the middle of his declaration. "Giles is right. No one's going after her. Not now." 

Xander glared angrily. "You waltzed out of here with barely a 'see you later', and then come waltzing back and expect the rest of us to just bow down and follow the orders of the almighty Deadboy? I don't know how it works in Vampire world, but in this world we don't take off and leave, and we don't leave them alone when they're miserable. So why don't you get back in your Batmobile and go home. I'm sure someone back in LA is flashing the Angel signal waiting for you. I'm going to see my friend." 

Angel stepped into Xander's path as the young man tried to leave. "No. You're not." 

"Are you going to stop me? I was under the impression that you didn't EAT too many of the good guys anymore Angel. Then again, you haven't been acting like all that much of a good guy these days yourself, have you? Even down here in wee little Sunnydale we hear rumors. Tell me Angel, having some trouble with an old girlfriend, so decided to come down here and play with the one that was still alive for a while?" 

Angel's face darkened furiously as Cordelia leapt to her feet and pulled Xander away. She refused to meet Angel's eyes, obviously upset that Xander had let slip the fact that she still talked to him . . . and told him what Angel was up to. "You have no idea what you're talking about Xander. Just shut up before he decorates one of these walls with your brains, okay?" After a moment she looked up at Angel, panic on her face. "You know I was only kidding right? I don't really think you'd paint with his brains." 

Angel let some of the tension flow from his body and nodded at Cordelia, trying to force a small smile, though it came out looking more like a grimace. "I know Cordelia. And Xander-" he looked at the boy. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you what to do. Just wait a while before you go see her, okay? I know what she's going through . . . . she'll need some time to adjust." Xander didn't answer, but gave a single abrupt nod before walking away into the kitchen. 

The rest of them sighed as he volatile atmosphere of the room gradually eased. Angel walked over and pulled on his jacket. Willow watched him for a moment before finally asking. "Where are you going?" 

He barely glanced at her. "I'm going to find her." 

Willow gasped noisily and everyone else began a clambering protest behind her. She waved her hand furiously at them to be silent, and was more than a little surprised when they obeyed. "Angel! You just told US to leave her alone, and here you go running after her? That's not right. And besides, hello, it's daylight. Unless you're planning on being the star of a barbeque, you'd better stay inside for a while." 

He finally looked back at her. "I'll be fine. I'm taking the car, it's tinted black enough to drive in the daylight." 

Willow jumped forward and grabbed his arm, her voice a bit shrill with disapproval. "You can't! You said to leave her alone, and that goes for you too." 

He pulled his arm away and walked out, his jacket pulled over his head. "I'm not going to find Buffy." 

Willow stopped in her tracks as understanding crossed her small face. Her voice was small as she spoke. "Oh, I see." As the door slammed shut behind a smoking vampire for the second time that day, Willow went back to sit with Tara, leaning her head on the other girl's shoulder and letting the tears she'd been holding back fall. "Poor Buffy." 

Tara stroked her hair and murmured too softly for anyone but Willow to hear. "Poor Kat, too." Willow raised her head sharply, her face a bit angry and surprised. But after a moment of thought, the anger faded and a look of sorrowful sympathy replaced it. She nodded slowly and leaned her head back down, wondering what she would say the next time she looked into Buffy's strange silver eyes. She hoped she'd find the right words this time.   
  


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Buffy sat in a pool of direct sunlight on the bottom step of her back porch. The sun beat down on her with unseasonable heat. Normally, with her black leather pants and long black leather jacket, beads of sweat would be building on her forehead and she would feel like she was sweltering. Instead she felt . . . . nothing; no sweat, no shortened breath, or clammy hands. She couldn't decide whether this was something to chalk up to the vampire plus or minus column. She reached into a pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small compact. She stared at it intently, but no image looked back at her. As a million more pressing concerns whirled through the back of her mind, the only thing she could focus on was to wonder how she would ever be able to put her makeup on again. As she stared into the empty mirror a voice spoke her name from behind her. She leapt to her feet and slid into a defensible position with a speed that amazed even her. Her always incredible reflexes seemed enhanced. She chalked up a point in the meager plus column and turned her attention to the speaker, who stood framed in the open doorway of the house, obviously having been waiting inside for her. She looked in amazement at the tall blonde vampire, realizing how he had snuck up behind her without being seen in the mirror. "Spike? What are you doing here . . . . in my house?" There wasn't a trace of the usual short temper seeing Spike instantly brought out in her. She had too much on her mind to waste any energy being snide with him. She simply waited for his answer. 

He studied her for a long moment. So much was the same, and yet everything was different. Even now, with misery etching her features she was beautiful. But the vivacious feeling of sheer life that had always emanated from her had faded, and the darkness that had always been there as well had come into sharper focus. She was and was not the girl she had been. She was more . . . and he noted, a stab of sadness arching through, she was less. She was his own kind now, in a way, but as he looked at her he felt the gulf between them wider than ever. She was more unreachable than she had ever been, she was fate's martyr now. And the speech he'd practiced the whole way here fell away from his mind. He stood there, not knowing what to say as he stared into her so vastly changed eyes. "God Slayer, you look like hell. Don't you know vampires are supposed to STOP aging?" He silently cursed himself for blurting the first thing that had come to his mind. 

She sighed and looked away, not bothering to get annoyed with him. "Thanks Spike, I'll keep that in mind." She brushed past him and went into the house. She didn't see the hand he brought up to touch her shoulder with, then pulled back before he could. She glanced at the clock and went to sit in the kitchen, Spike trailing behind her. He sat beside her and she looked at him in exasperation. "Spike, what are you DOING here? What do you want? If all you want to do is insult me, why don't you write it all down in a memo and fax it to me. I'll think up clever replies later for you." 

He was quiet a moment beneath her searching gaze, and when he spoke, it was in a tone she'd never heard from him, a tone of utter sincerity. "Slayer . . . . this shouldn't have happened to you." 

She lifted bitter eyes to meet his. "So everyone keeps telling me, but that doesn't make it not happen. And everyone telling me how sorry they are doesn't undo it. So if all you want to do is tell me I don't deserve this, save your breath Spike." She paused as she pondered her own words. "Figuratively speaking, of course." 

He smiled faintly in response. "Buffy I understand wha-" 

She jumped so violently to her feet that her chair tumbled over backwards. The apathy and bitterness in her voice gave way to fury and her eyes shifted to resemble fiery liquid metal. "NO! You don't understand! You can't understand. You don't have a soul. You weren't born to serve till you die doing something you NEVER chose to do, and then suddenly have the only REST The Powers that Be offer to you, death, yanked away from you by someone 'blessing' you with immortality. You don't know what it is to look into the eyes of the people you've loved and protected for YEARS and see fear and doubt. You don't know ANYTHING Spike, because you don't FEEL. You hunt and you kill, and now you bitch and cry because you're not allowed to destroy people's lives without blowing your own head open. You curse my name and hurt my friends and then have the nerve to come here and say you understand what I'm going through? You don't understand anything Spike. It's not in you." She reached forward and with a burst of strength broke off a piece of the table in front of her. She threw the wooden edge at Spike and spread her hands wide. "Go ahead Spike. You're chip's not going to stop you now. No pesky humanity left to keep you from killing me. Go on. Make good all the threats you've whispered and the schemes you've concocted. Kill me." 

He stared at her, seeing the pain she hid behind the mad fury. He knew her so well, his beloved enemy. He laid the makeshift stake down and rose to face her. "I can't." 

The quicksilver eyes fading to their normal color, she stared at him. "You can't, or you won't? 

He shrugged. "Take your pick." 

Her eyes began to tear and her voice broke as she whispered. "Why?" 

He stepped forward. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue, to tell her why, tell her it was because he loved her. But it stuck in his throat. "Because vampire or not, you're still Buffy Summers, and no matter how hard I try, I've never been able to really hurt Buffy Summers. And no matter how much I might have wanted to, I could never bring myself to kill her, not even when she hands me the stake and begs." He reached forward and tipped her face up to look at him, wiping away a tear with his fingers. For the first time her skin didn't feel warm to him, and his touch wasn't cold to her, and though neither one said anything, it didn't escape either of them. "And no matter what I've said, I haven't wanted to hurt her in a long time." 

She pulled her face away, her body trembling. "I wish I'd chosen differently." 

He instantly knew what she meant. "Your friends don't. They may be shocked and upset, but they're happy to have you around, whether or not you have a pulse. And knowing that pesky little destiny of yours, I'm betting that this is all written in Fate's cards, and everything has a reason that'll come out sooner or later." He hesitated. "And I'm glad you didn't too." 

"Why?" The question held a different tone this time. 

"My life would make so much more bloody sense if I understood the answer to that question." 

As if an unseen puppeteer had suddenly released her strings, Buffy sank to the floor, shaking with suppressed sobs. Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear it. "I don't want this." 

He knelt next to her and pulled her into a rough embrace as she lost her fragile control and heart wrenching sobs began to wrack her small body. "I know. I'm sorry." He held her as she cried, knowing that had things been different, he would never have gotten this close to her without her defenses pushing him away. He ached with hurt for her, but he couldn't hold back a twinge of happiness that he no longer had to fear for her simple, human death. He gathered his courage while her face was buried in his shoulder, and spoke again, his words rushed and awkward and his tone so low it could barely be heard. "Buffy, I love you." 

Her racking sobs continued undaunted, and the words died away, unheard by the one they'd been intended for. He steeled himself to repeat them when she spoke, hiccuping through her tears. "Angel's face when he found out . . . . he looked like he hated me. Like he was disgusted with me." She cried harder. "Everything I love leaves me, and now I have to live forever, watching everything I care about drift away, knowing he's still there, but not for me. Never for me. And maybe that doesn't even bother him anymore." 

Spike swallowed his words, suddenly feeling empty and flat, a shield she used against Angel. "Course it still bothers him pet. He was just upset." He said the right words and played, for the first time since Drusilla had turned him, the role of a friend. No one watching would know his heart had just been yanked out and trampled over, and was now newly refilled with loathing for the vampire who'd gotten to her first.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************   
  


He sat in the darkened car in the middle of a sunlit and vacant graveyard. He was thankful that it was empty, as he'd ignored the small roads that wound throughout the cemetery and had driven over the grass to park in the middle, underneath the awning of a huge and graceful oak tree. He looked carefully around, certain that she was there, and equally certain that if she chose to not to be found, he could look for a thousand years and never find her. He lost track of how long he sat there, if felt like hours, but could have been minutes. He was staring straight in front of him and one moment there was no one, the next she stood there, looking in at him. He stared back until she turned slowly away and walked with slow deliberation away from the shade of the tree, into the sunlight. He growled in annoyance for a moment, then relaxed a bit as she stepped into a nearby mausoleum, swinging the door shut behind her. He pulled his coat over his head, flung the car door open and sprinted inside, swearing as his skin began to smoke again. He pulled the door shut behind him and stepped further inside, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the gloominess within the small building. He looked around, stumbling over the step down into the slightly sunken center. She sat atop a large, elaborately carved stone coffin, staring at him wordlessly, waiting. 

He stepped in front of her, deliberately catching her eyes with his. "You had no right." he finally said. His face was unreadable, inscrutable, but as she watched him, he felt she could read him anyway. She said nothing, just watched him. He grew more angry. "There might have been another way! You should have waited." She still said nothing, her face sad her eyes shadowed, showing no reaction the accusatory tone of his voice and the angry bite of his words. He stepped further forward, his hands clenching into fists. "I trusted you." Silence was his only answer. As he stared at her, his own anger began to fade, replaced by a horrible feeling of melancholy and confusion. "How could you do this to me?" 

A flash of surprise flitted across her face, and she finally spoke. "You? I did nothing to you." 

He grew angry again. "You think this doesn't affect me?" 

"I think I did what I did to Buffy. And I think you're an egomaniacal fool whose first reaction is always about himself." Despite the sting of her words, her voice held no rancor. 

He started at that. "What are you talking about?" 

She sighed. "You think I don't know you Angelus? You think I don't know that the moment you realized what had happened, you felt, for a moment, happiness that you wouldn't have to sit back and watch her grow old? That I don't know that you've spent every moment since then damning yourself for thinking that way? And damning me for changing her, and throwing your ordered existence into chaos? You are a fool Angelus, and for all your love and all your devotion, your first thought was how this affected YOU. Not how she felt, not what this meant for her, but what it meant for you." 

He stared, words escaping him as he tried to find a way to deny the truth of what she said. He bowed his head, his voice humbled, his shoulders slumped. "You took away the one thing I had to work for. Do you know that, Twilight?" 

She winced slightly at the name he'd never called her by before, and the coldly impersonal way he said it. "She is still here, Angelus. Would you rather I have killed her outright? She might have preferred that." 

He looked horrified at the thought. "No. You don't understand." 

"Than tell me. Make me understand." 

"Everyday I fight. I left Buffy to give her a chance at a normal life, something she'd never have with me. And everyday, I think of her, and I fight the constant battle for the sake of the ONE THING The Powers That Be have promised me. They said I'll be human again. Did you know that? And everyday I think of that, and I push back the demon and I fight, and I think that maybe it'll happen soon, and I can be human . . . and with Buffy. You've changed all that. You took away the one thing I've wanted in a hundred years. You took away my reason to fight." 

Kat stared at him sadly. "You are worse than a fool Angelus. You are a liar, and the worst kind of liar. You lie only to yourself, and you've done it for so long you believe it yourself." 

"How is that a lie?" 

"You fight for the same reason you've fought since I met you. The same reason you first began, because you're a coward who hates his existence. You fight in the hopes that someone will do to you what you hadn't the courage to do to yourself, when first you regained your soul and had to face the misery of an existence filled with guilt. You don't fight for a chance to live, you fight to die, and no matter how much you love her, you WILL always fight for death, until you finally reconcile yourself to the truth of what you are and what you've done, instead of hiding behind excuses and false fronts." She searched his face as she spoke, not knowing what she was looking for, but desperately wishing she saw it there. "You told them you wanted that. You told YOURSELF you wanted humanity and Buffy and a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence. You told yourself that you left her for her own good. You tell yourself a hundred little lies a day, when the truth is that you don't believe you deserve any of it. You think of all the things you've done, and you think that you don't deserve humanity or anything else. And you have every intention of not surviving long enough to claim the prize you're supposedly running the race for, all in a quest to achieve a level of heroism that will erase what you were." He turned away, but she finished anyway, knowing he heard her. "You're fighting for a bit of redemption before you take that final bow, but it'll never happen. The evil we do is never overshadowed, we can only hope to even the balance by doing our best to atone. You expect your slate to be wiped clean, and that is why you will never win this game Angel. You don't even know the rules." 

He hissed as he spoke through clenched teeth. "You're wrong. Buffy changed all of that. I went away for her, for us both. Because it was too hard to be close. And she's all I want." He missed the look of despairing hopelessness that flashed over he as he spoke, his back still to her. "I don't deserve it. Don't deserve any of it. But I'll take it anyway." He hesitated. "Or I would have. Now there's nothing for me." 

"She's still here Angelus. She's alive in every way but one. And she's still the girl you love." 

He turned back to face her. "You condemned her to the same half-life I live in . . . . YOU live in, and you say that to me? As if you did me a favor? And now everytime I look at her, I have to face that I helped do this to her. How can she be the same person to me now?" 

She looked disgusted. "You cast her away because you're afraid to look into your own living mirror? I hate to break it to you Angel, but everything that happens to her doesn't revolve around you. Had we never met, I still would have sought her out, and things would still be the same. This isn't your fault . . . but even if it was that was a poor excuse, and a true coward's pleadings." 

He flushed a bit, a remarkable feat for a vampire. "How do you know she won't lose her soul Twilight? How do you know you . . . or me . . . won't wind up having to choose between killing her, or dying ourselves?" 

"It will be easier for her than it is for us." 

"How's that? Because she's stronger? I know that, Buffy's always been stronger than I was. It doesn't mean she won't spend the rest of her long, long life hating part of herself." 

Her voice was soft as she answered. "Because she doesn't have to live with the knowledge of what she did before. She had her regrets, but not like you . . . not like me." She pushed herself off of the tomb and came to stand before him. "I knew you would hate this. I knew it and I did it anyway because I didn't want you . . . and all of those who fight with you and with the Slayer to die. I've seen so many die because I failed to stop it. I couldn't stand by again. I regret the necessity, I regret the pain I've caused . . . . I regret so many things. But I would not change what I've done, even if I could." 

He reached out and tipped her head up to face him, staring into her eyes. "What color were your eyes before you turned?" 

She looked up in confusion. "They were blue." 

He dropped her chin. "Buffy's were green. Now they're like yours. When I look at her, I see parts of you looking back at me, and I try to picture what you looked like before they changed. But I never can. I always thought you were born with eyes that color, some strange mark of Fate. Now I know it's a part of what you became, and I realized I never knew you at all, I just know the creature you've become. And I don't know if the two are at all alike. I'll always remember what her eyes looked like, but I can't even imagine what yours were like. And now when I look at her, I see the creature she's become looking back at me, and I hate you for taking away the girl she was, because God only knows what she's capable of becoming now." He stepped back. "I understand what you did. I understand why you did it. But I'll never agree." He hesitated. "I'll never forget . . . and I doubt I'll ever forgive." He pulled his coat back over his head and left, running with quickly fading footsteps to his car. 

Katerina listened as the car started and pulled away. She stood frozen, a breathless, lifeless statue. When finally she spoke, nothing but the empty tomb heard her. "I'm sorry Angel." She stood for another moment, lost in memories. "There is no one left who remembers when my eyes were blue, Angel. All I had left I lost in one day. Spike, you . . . . . all that's left to show for a lifetime." She walked from the tiny building and stood blinking in the sunlight. She stared at the spot where Angel's car had been, the tire tracks in the grass still lingering. She spoke to that, as if it was his lingering ghost. "I lived to destroy. I knew nothing but loyalty and death, the slayer was all I was, what I've become is the same as what I was, but you'll never comprehend that. I'm not sure what love is, and friendship still comes awkwardly to me. But for all my ignorance, I think I've loved you both my friends. And you'll never know how sorry I am." She turned and began a slow walk away from the graveyard, not sure where she was going, but needing to go somewhere. She glanced back opposite the way she was walking, toward Buffy's house. A wistful longing to go talk to Buffy touched her, but she pushed it away and continued on her way to nowhere.** **


	11. Aligning Sides

  
  


Author's Note: I apologize for the slow down in the development of this story. Real time events and work (ugh) have been forcing me to spend less time playing with my silly little story than I would like. Thanks to those of you who've been sticking with me and waiting to see what happens next. My former editor is still unavailable, so if anyone out there wants to do a bit of beta reading for me, drop me an e-mail. I'd highly appreciate it, as this is yet another part I'm going to notice errors in next time I look at it and want to kick myself for being so damn stupid and not seeing them the first time. Thanks to all those who've read and reviewed. To those who've asked questions in their reviews, make sure I know your e-mail address if it's not listed in your profile, or I can't answer you. Or feel free to drop me an e-mail. I love hearing from fellow writers and readers.   
  


### **Part 10**

### **Aligning Sides**

###### "I don't care what consequence it brings.

###### I have been a fool for lesser things."

###### -- Billy Joel, _The Longest Time_

  
  


She stood shrouded in a clinging, slithering mist that obscured all but the most basic of shapes from her searching gaze. The mist danced and swayed about her as she moved, trying to escape it. Her movements felt slow and languid, and the mist seemed to grow thicker as she sought a release from it. She gave up after a moment, standing perfectly still and waiting. She did not know what she waited for. She could see nothing, but she knew she was not alone. She felt the other's presence, it's familiarity soothing in this blind cocoon. The identity of that other presence wandered through her mind, but the mist reached in and snatched it away, and it was lost. She heard a sound behind her, like the rustling of grass and the whisper of skin against silk combined. She turned, the mist parted and she walked down the path it created for her. At the edge of the mist she stopped and gasped, looking down into a yawning empty void. She stepped back. "What is this?" 

"It is the end." She whirled carefully, edging further away from the edge, her eyes studying the hazy robed figures that stood before her. Ageless and alien, they were utterly inhuman and their wavering gaze held no hint of empathy. The one who had spoken waved a blue tinted hand toward the void. "It is also the beginning." 

She tilted her head, blinking at the odd echo of the speaker's voice. It's tones were feminine, but somehow sounded nothing like a woman. "I don't understand." 

The other spoke now. It's male voice sounding vaguely amused. "It is not for mortals to understand." 

"I am not mortal." She listened startled to her own words, and the odd echo behind them, as if they had been spoken by more than one voice. 

"All things are mortal. Nothing is eternal, you're mortality is simply of a different plane than that of humans. 

"What is that the beginning and end of?" 

The female now, stepping forward, her form becoming more solid. "Everything. Nothing. It is the silence from which all things emerged, and all things will return." 

She turned again and stared at the blackness. "It is despair." 

The female nodded. "And hope. Love and hate. Life and death. It is the truth that no mortal will ever comprehend." 

"Why does it look like blackness to me?" 

"You look at it with the eyes of one who has lost their faith. To you it is despair, because that is what is in your heart." 

"It is God?" 

"God is an invention. This is greater than god. It is Truth." 

She nodded, though she did not understand. "Why do you show me this?" 

"It is . . . a bonus. A side-affect of our bringing you here. Mortals were not meant to walk these halls. We were the emissaries of this place, The Mortal world's link to this plane. Things move in your world, and we cannot be there again now. Instead, we brought you here." 

"Why?" 

"There are signs and events. We have lost control of the champions we chose, and those who sent us from the mortal plane possess powers that could destroy our plans." 

"You are immortal, and you stand with what you call the ultimate power. Why do you need me?" 

The male spoke now, his voice more impatient than his sister's. "You are our physical hand on your plane, you and a handful of others. Of all of those, you are the one able to stop what is to come. The limitations our imprisonment here imposed on us caused our warnings to go awry, and become nothing but vague distillations of our original message." 

"You sent Cordelia the vision." 

"Yes. It was . . . an aspect, a possibility, and a warning. It was an effect of what you were planning to do. Such vague warnings will not help you enough, so we brought you here." 

The female laid a hand on her brother's arm and spoke again. "Time grows short and we must hurry." 

"What do I have to do?" 

"Another of our favorites, the souled vampire, an enemy he has battled now holds the keys to an ancient ritual that will unleash a plague of destruction, the same enemy that robbed us of our physical forms. More dire still, it will rob us of our highest champions. You. They must be stopped, or you will become the creatures that haunt your deepest nightmares. Without you and your successors, the Balance will shift, and all will come undone. The implications cannot be understood by your kind." 

"How can I stop them?" 

"The most powerful of them must be destroyed. Gather your allies, or you will fail. All knowledge of the ritual must be erased, or the threat will simply re-emerge. 

She frowned. "How can knowledge be erased?" 

"There is one among you already whose talents have yet to be awakened. They alone will possess the power to clear minds and erase memories. Find them, and keep them safe. They are essential." 

"There is so much I still do not understand. Is this why the Change had to happen?" 

"Things will come clear in time, if you succeed. If you fail, the answers will not be so essential." The two figures were fading into one, and the mist was again becoming a living, blinding entity. 

"What if I fail?" 

The voice was distant now, she had to strain to hear it. "Then others will come after you and try to repair the damage. They will not succeed." The last words became incomprehensible, and she turned in place, seeking a way through the mist. Suddenly a flash of light nearly blinded her. When her eyes opened again, the female stood again before her. She started to speak, but the creature raised a hand. "Time is gone now, but remember this. Beware of hidden enemies, and true selflessness is eventually rewarded. Stave off despair, or all your suffering will be for nothing, and your efforts will be wasted. A heart with no hope will never succeed against the press of the darkness. The Balance between worlds must be weighed at the portal that joins them." 

She glared briefly. "You are not of this world. Why do you care which side rules it?" 

The figure smiled briefly. "We are not impartial. We are as firmly entrenched on our side of the battle lines as you are on yours." 

"We are not fighting on the same side?" 

She waved a hand vaguely and elegantly in the air. "We are not in the same war. We fight our own war, as those above us fight their own." 

"You have betters?" 

"All creatures answer to a higher power. Even us. We do not wish for the Darkness to claim your world. We are . . . . attached to it. Besides, it would disrupt the Balance." 

Distant voices began to thread their way through the mist, and the figure turned toward them. "Goodbye Slayers. We will meet again." She disappeared, and the mist became solid and thick. She felt it reaching down her throat and she began to choke, trying to scream for help. She fell to her knees, something sharp cutting into her palm. She reached up to claw at her throat, a scream finally escaping . . . . 

Miles apart, two women bolted awake, jarred by the force of their own gurgling screams. Images of a half-remembered dream rolling through their heads. As one, they raised their right hand and looked, unsurprised, at a shallow cut down the center of their palm.   
  
  
  


**************************************************************************** 

The young man stood nervously before the older, One hand stuffed deep in his pockets to hide its plastic fingers. He started to speak, but the other man waved him to silence as he spoke into a speaker-phone with an unseen party over a static filled phone line. The young man sighed and sank silently into a plush leather chair, straining to hear the static disrupted, distinctly British voice on the other end of the line. 

"There are . . . . unexpected difficulties, Holland. We could not have anticipated this development." 

The man at the desk waved a hand, glaring angrily at the offending speaker. "You should have adjusted for all possibilities. Our time frame may well be shorter now. The Council is breathing down our necks, and they may well contact the Slayers before the Slayers even seek them out to repay them for their treachery. That would put a serious kink in our planning, as you know they will not hold the entire council responsible for the misguided actions of a few. Especially when the few had no chance of success." 

A hiss of static drowned out the beginning of the other man's sentence, but cleared again after a moment. "-and there is a distinct possibility that this may have increased the Slayer's animosity toward the Council." 

Holland frowned. "You're certain she kept her soul." 

"Our friends who've been monitoring the Watcher's house assure me that the Slayer herself said she was Changed, and her soul still intact." 

"What of Twilight? Where is she now." 

"We don't know. The other members of the Slayer's circle did not take kindly to her actions." 

Holland sighed and sank back in his chair, one finger idly massaging his temple. "Richard, I am most disappointed in you. I expect these problems to be fixed, and the whereabouts of Twilight and the situation in Sunnydale to be well in control by this time tomorrow. Adjust your preparations for the rituals, or you will be hearing from me very soon. And you will not like what you hear." 

Holland clicked the speaker-phone off as Richard began stammering an apology. He turned his attention to the young man, who stared back at him, waiting. "Well Lindsey, I expect you're aware of the current situation I'm in." 

Lindsey nodded. "If you mean with the Slayers, I know something about it, though I don't know all the details -" 

"Actually no. I was referring to the situation I'm in . . . . with you." 

Lindsey sat forward, unconsciously bringing his hands together to clasp, and frowning when he met only plastic one side. "I don't understand sir." 

"Lindsey, the senior partners have placed a great deal of faith in me. This . . . . project is one I've been planning long before you joined our firm. It is, I hope, the final push I will need to be raised to full status within this firm. But before I can be promoted, they must have someone who can take my place here." 

Lindsey smiled a bit. "Sir, if you want to know if I'm qualified to take your place, I assure you-" 

Holland cut him off with a wave of his hand. "No, that is not my concern. You and I both know that your training and talents make you the best suited for this position. No, what concerns the Senior partners most, is your dedication." Holland stood and walked around his desk to stand directly before Lindsey, half sitting on the front of his immense desk as he spoke to the younger man. "Lindsey, your talents can only take you so far. Your past . . . . defiance of this firm's policy has held you back for longer. The senior partners want to trust my judgement, but are leery of giving someone with an, ah, inconsistent background such an esteemed position." Holland smiled. "Now you know I trust you completely Lindsey, but the Senior Partners require a show of good faith before they will allow you to rise any further with this firm." 

Lindsey stood so he was even with Holland, his face a study in determination. "What do I have to do?" 

Holland smiled. "That, I don't know. You and I are going to meet the Senior Partners, and they will decide what you must do." 

Lindsey felt a chill run down his spine. The Senior Partners were well known for being something other than human. Something VERY "other". He'd heard horror stories about demons that demanded a sacrifice of a body part before they allowed a human partnership in the firm. He glanced down at his severed hand, and wondered if that would suffice. 

Holland led him out of the building and they hailed a cab. As the car sped away from the offices of Wolfram & Heart, Lindsey wondered, briefly, if he was wading into an ocean when he could barely swim. He clamped down harshly on the thought and settled back to make idle chit-chat with Holland as the cab sped them away toward the richest and most opulent section of LA. 

*********************************************************************** 

Lindsey gaped soundlessly as he stepped from the cab. He had expected a castle-like structure, something dark and gothic and imposing. The house -mansion- before him was nothing like that. Huge and stately, the estate was all light and columns and marble, it was imposing only in it's size and opulence, not because of the dark demeanor he'd expected. 

Holland stepped beside him, obviously enjoying Lindsey's reaction. "You should see it as Christmas time. A giant Santa and this whole workshop full of little moving elves and reindeer." Lindsey shot him a look of pure disbelief. Holland chuckled a bit and pulled Lindsey by his arm. "Come on. They're expecting us." They walked up to the immense arching doorways. Lindsey tentatively pushed the doorbell and was rewarding by a great melodic clanging of bells that would have sounded more appropriate in the middle of Notre Dame. The doors swung open a moment later to reveal a tall, stately man in a stiff suit and large glasses. He greeted them warmly by name, surprising Lindsey more with his accent- which was Australian rather than the stereotypical British- than with his foreknowledge of who they were. He escorted them quickly to a large an airy library and waved them into two terrifyingly modern chairs. Lindsey lowered himself carefully into one, eyeing the slender legs dubiously and attempting to keep most of his weight on his feet as he sat. 

"Can I get either of you something to drink? Or perhaps a bite to eat? Our cook baked up some mini fruit pies this morning, they're surprisingly good." 

Holland smiled and shook his head. "No thank you Anthony. We'll just wait here thanks." 

The butler smiled. "Just hit that little button on the wall by the desk if you need anything. The blue one, see?" He excused himself and left. The two men sat, Holland with calm reserve, Lindsey with poorly hidden trepidation. Finally the door to the library opened and two men stepped into the office. Both smiled warmly and greeted Holland with proffered handshakes. Lindsey was again taken by surprise. The two men were . . . . normal. No otherworldly aura, no fangs or spikes or bloodstains. They looked like two ordinary businessmen. Which, oddly enough, Lindsey found extremely unsettling. 

Then the taller of the two turned to Lindsey and proffered his hand. "You must be Lindsey MacDonald. We've heard quite a lot about you! Holland seems to have high hopes for you." 

Lindsey took the man's hand and shook firmly. "I hope to live up to his expectations of me sir." 

The man smiled a bit unpleasantly. "I'm sure you do. I'm Lee Stanchon, this is Matt Cronberg." The shorter man nodded his balding head and quickly shook hands. His grip lacked strength and his hands were unpleasantly clammy. "Please, having a seat." 

Holland and Lindsey sat back down in their chairs and the two men went around the desk to settle into black office chairs behind the desk. 

Lindsey hesitated, seeing Holland watching him carefully. "You're not the Senior partners?" 

The two men glanced at one another, then at Holland. "Suffice it to say we speak with their voice." 

Lindsey nodded and looked again toward Holland. The other man flicked his eyes significantly toward the large wall-mounted bookcase to Lindsey's right. Lindsey followed his eyes and smiled a bit to himself. He considered keeping his findings to himself, then decided against it. "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, eh fellows?" 

The two men gave him a sharp glance. Lee finally gave a small smile and nodded toward the bookcase. "Indeed. In time, you may well meet the Wizard Dorothy. If you stay on the yellow brick road." 

A smirk turned up the corners of Lindsey's mouth as he nodded. 

Lee cleared his throat and focused his attention on Lindsey. "Mr. MacDonald, as you know events crucial to this firm are unfolding in the very near future. Holland, despite his best efforts, simply cannot be everywhere at once and has found himself a bit overwhelmed. He has requested help on this . . . case. It seems the only one qualified and . . . . . suited to assisting him, and perhaps eventually taking over for him, is you." Lee picked up a folder on the desk and began to flip idly through it. "You're record has been . . . spotty however in recent months. We need to be assured of your loyalty to our cause and to our firm." 

Lindsey sat forward. "Anything you need me to do, just tell me. I fully regret my rash mistakes, and have every intention of staying loyal." 

Lee smiled again and pushed the folder toward Lindsey. "There are several impediments to our current course of action. Thorns in Wolfram & Heart's side. Remove those thorns, and you will have erased clean your record, and will again be well on your way to being a very important person within this firm." 

Lindsey rose and took the folder. "Removed as in . . . . ." 

Matt spoke now. His voice surprisingly deep. "Removed as in no longer of this world Mr. MacDonald, as I'm sure you well understood. The time for walking the safe line is well over. These . . . thorns MUST be removed." 

Lindsey blanched, but nodded. "I'll do my best. You have my word." 

Both men rose. "I suggest, Mr. MacDonald, that you do better than that. Success will have its own rewards. We don't discuss failure. It is simply not allowed." Lee smiled, the unpleasantness of it becoming downright frightfulness. They left, shaking hands with Holland and urging him to join them at the clubhouse on Sunday. 

Holland turned to Lindsey. "You go on back to the office Lindsey. Lee and I have some matters to discuss. You and I will talk later." Lindsey nodded and Holland left him alone in the huge library. Lindsey glanced down at the folder he held and, with his breath unconsciously held, flipped it open. On each side were two stapled sets of papers, a photograph paper clipped to the upper right hand corner of each. He stared at the familiar face of one and read the top sheet quickly. 

"Cordelia Chase. Last known place of employment, Angel Investigations. Last known residence, Los Angeles. Associate and Employee of Angelus, Vampire. Known Seer. Elimination necessary. Harvesting of eyes and/or head if possible." He stared in disbelief at the pretty brunette who smiled at him from the picture. He looked quickly away, looking at the other picture. A dark haired young man, almost a boy really looked back at him. He read. "Alexander Harris. Last known residence, Sunnydale California. Associate of Buffy Summers, the Slayer. Elimination necessary, at all costs." 

Lindsey gulped and looked up searchingly at the bookcase. He stared at it, willing it into transparency so he could see what was behind it. It stayed opaque, and he turned and left, walking toward the front doors and his waiting cab.   
  
  
  


**************************************************************************** 

Behind the solid wall, two pairs of eyes watched on a wall of monitors as the young lawyer fled the mansion. When they spoke, their voices were oddly echoed and had the perfect diction of one who's first language is not English. 

"He is a risk." 

"But a necessary one." 

"There are others who could serve." 

"But if he performs well, he could be of so much more assistance later." 

"He is not ready." 

"He will be. Or he will spend his last moments regretting it." 

"I hope you are right. Things are falling into place too neatly. There is something coming to upset our plans. We must be ready. Our enemies are not ignorant of our plans." 

"They are powerless. Chained by their own absurd morality. All will turn out well for us." 

"Perhaps." 


	12. From Sun To Moon

Author's Note: I've had so many nice e-mails and encouraging words from so many people who take the time out of their day to tell me how much they enjoy the story, and many of them include excellent suggestions for improving it. I fully intend to do a long and self-indulgent thank you section when I've finally finished this. For now, let me just give a heartfelt and genuine thank you to all of you who've read, reviewed, and e-mailed me. It's very much appreciated. If you e-mailed me and did not receive a response (as I've had several people tell me they did) than don't hesitate to e-mail again. My e-mail service has been having fits lately, and I may not have gotten your message. I apologize, as usual, for any errors and will undoubtably be doing a few changes as I discover them. I also apologize for the length in between parts. Life has been busy on the farm lately, and I have not had the time to write I'd like to have lately. The next part is already well started and with any luck I'll get it up tomorrow or the day after. Thanks again, and have a great weekend all!   
  


**Part Eleven**

### **From Sun to Moon**

###### "He says that behind my eyes I'm hiding

###### and he tells me I pushed him away 

###### That my heart's been hard to find."

###### --Tori Amos, _Baker Baker_

  
  


Buffy sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands and the phone propped up next to her ear. Spike sat beside her, sipping idly at a mug of coffee. He listened with half an ear as a din of indistinguishable voices chattered at the other end of the phone line. He raised his eyebrows as Buffy tried, for the fourth time, to get everyone to stop apologizing and hand the phone to Giles. She shot a look at Spike, who grinned an "I told you so" smile. Finally the phone must have changed hands, because Buffy sat up straight and began to speak. "Giles? Is it you? Is it just you?" 

"Yes yes, it's me. Xander, go DO something. I can't hear Buffy with you chattering in my ear like a hyperactive monkey. Spike grinned again and scooted closer to hear better. Buffy shot him a dirty look but turned toward him a bit so he could hear. "Buffy, what's wrong? Is Angel there?" 

Buffy looked confused. "Angel? No, he's not here. I thought he was with you. Spike's here." 

"Oh wonderful. I should have tied him to a chair. I'm sorry Buffy, I know he was the last thing you needed to deal with." 

"Hey! I was a bloody prince I'll have you know." Spike threw the phone an affronted look and pulled out a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, digging in his jacket pocket for his lighter. 

Buffy reached out and snatched it out of his mouth with a pointed glare. "Outside if you're going to spread toxic fumes please." 

"Fine I'll just go outside and smoke. Won't even need a cigarette, my head will go up in flames all by itself." 

She glared briefly and then turned back to the phone. "Giles, can the others hear you?" 

"Well no. They're in the other room, I don't think they can hear me. Though I can, unfortunately, hear them quite well. Why?" 

"After Spike and I talked this morning, I sorta fell asleep. I didn't wake up till Dawn came home and started yelling at Spike for not letting her watch TV because he was watching some stupid soap. But . . . I had a dream Giles. It was . . . powerful." 

"You think it's a vision then? Just a moment, let me get up to my bedroom where it's a bit more quiet . . . . Cordelia, could you please NOT use the five hundred year old book as a coaster? No, the seven hundred year old book is not an improvement. Perhaps you could use an actual coaster? Or just put it on the table, fine." Buffy smiled slightly as Giles gave a sigh of longsuffering and told her to hold on. She heard the fading footsteps as he walked away, then moments later the click of a second receiver being picked up. Giles called down the stairs for someone to hang up the downstairs phone and after a brief argument over who had to do it, the receiver was replaced and Giles and Buffy could talk. "What was your, ah, vision about Buffy, and what is Spike still doing there?" 

Buffy sighed. "It's a long story, but I needed someone to talk to, and Spike was here, and it worked out. Things don't look quite so grim now. They're not exactly cheery, fluffy-bunny, happy or anything, but I'll get through it." 

Giles hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say, then simply plunged in. "Buffy, we're all horribly sorry about not being more . . . supportive. We were just all quite shocked and unsure of what to say. We've all been sitting here kicking ourselves. I, in particular, should have been better able to deal with the situation, but I used poor judgement and lost my wits, and I am truly so-" 

"Giles!" Buffy had to raise her voice to cut into her Watcher's heartfelt apology. "Giles, it's alright. I know what you all meant. It just didn't come out the way you meant it. Well, it didn't come out at all, but you know what I mean." Buffy cleared her throat and thought a moment. "I was . . . . upset when you all weren't there with the hugs and the kisses and all, but I'm over it, and I understand." 

Giles sighed. "Alright then, let's put it behind us, shall we? Do you want to tell me about your vision now, or are you coming over? Or I could come there if you prefer?" 

Buffy hesitated. "No, I'll just tell you now. I'm come over later. I only remember bits and pieces Giles, but things are . . . something's wrong." In slow and hesitant sentences, Buffy told her Watcher of her dreamy meeting with the Oracles, and as she spoke, more and more of it came clear in her mind. She slowly pieced everything together until she had remembered it all. Spike sat, quietly eavesdropping throughout the conversation, and Giles was silent, save for occasional thinking noises. 

As she finished, Giles remained silent for a long minute, and when he spoke it was in a puzzled and uncertain voice. "They said that you must protect someone from an enemy of Angel's? The same enemy that destroyed them in the first place. And then they must help you defeat that enemy?" 

Buffy nodded, which earned her a snort of laughter from Spike, who quickly pointed out that Giles wasn't likely to see her affirmative nod, seeing as how he was on the phone. She ignored him again and spoke into the phone. "Yes. But they didn't say who. Only someone who '_will possess the power to clear minds and erase memories._' I got the feeling that it was someone I knew well. Someone who maybe didn't already have powers. It's just a feeling though, it could be wrong." 

"I doubt it. Good of them to be so cryptic when the fate of the world is on the line though." 

Buffy smiled a bit. "Actually, I think the fate of OUR world is on the line. They wouldn't like it if it got blown up, but I think they may just shrug it off and find a new toy in a few days." 

"Well, do you have any idea who they meant? And what of this enemy of Angel's? They say Angel's enemy, not yours, so perhaps it's someone or something that he's encountered since he left us? I can go talk to Cordelia, find out if they know who killed the, ah oracles. If that's what they are. It seems in keeping with recorded teachings about them though. I suppose talking to Angel about it will have to wait until he decides to reappear." 

"Giles, where did Angel go?" 

He hesitated a moment. "I'm not sure. I believe he may have gone after Katerina though." 

Buffy cringed inwardly. "Where is she Giles." 

He sighed heavily. "I haven't the faintest idea Buffy. I wish I did. She may prove integral to the coming events . . . in one way or another." 

Buffy stared accusingly at the phone, as if by staring hard enough she could see the man on the other end. "You think she may be on the other side?" 

"I think anything's possible Buffy. I've lived on the Hellmouth too long to think anything else." 

Buffy dragged her fingers over the table, idly tracing a pattern over a dent in the table's center. "Giles . . . . when the Oracles spoke to me, I was the only one there. But . . I FELT someone else. Whenever I spoke, every question, every answer I gave, it was like someone else was saying the same things at the same time. And when we left, the female, she said 'Farewell SLAYERS.' As in plural. More than one." 

"You believe Kat was there as well?" 

"Who else could have been? She's a slayer, it's natural she'd have dreams like mine." 

"Perhaps Faith." 

"It wasn't Faith. I've dreamed of . . or with Faith often enough to know. I'd have recognized it if Faith was there. She wasn't. It was Kat." 

The sound of creaking bedsprings came as Giles plopped down on his bed to sit. "Then it's perhaps even more essential that we keep our allies on the same side. No one is willing to trust her very much right now. But . . . I trust your instincts Buffy." 

Buffy felt her eyes tearing. Long gone were the days when Giles questioned her every move. He treated her as a full grown slayer and woman now. She wasn't always sure that was what she wanted, but the gesture meant a lot to her. "Thank you Giles. I'm going to find her. Find them, I guess. Talk to everyone. We have to work this out. And then I think we have to consider changing our travel plans." 

"What do you mean." 

She stood and walked over the window, looking into the front lawn, where Dawn stood, talking with her friend from across the street. "If this enemy of Angel's is what we have to fight, than where do you think we'll wind up going." 

Giles sigh was easily audible over the phone line. "I hate that damn city you know." 

Buffy grinned. "Don't worry Giles. We'll take you shopping at all the best shoe stores in LA after we avert another Apocalypse of course." 

"I can't thank you enough. So very kind of you." 

"Don't mention it. I'll be over after I find them." Buffy hung up the phone and walked back over to the table. She looked out again at Dawn and sighed. "I guess I could ask her to stay over with her friend for a while." 

Spike was lounging with deceptive casualness in his chair. "You're going after her then? Now?" 

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. The sooner the better. We're going to need her I think." 

Spike stood. "Let me find her." 

She turned to him, and odd expression on her face, as if she'd bitten back a sharp remark and didn't like its taste. "It's daylight Spike. And if you find them, what makes you think they'll listen to you?" 

He shrugged. "Angel won't. But he'll come back on his own. Kat might. I'm the first friend she ever had slayer. I'm willing to bet she might give me a moment of her time. And I've got ways of getting around in the daylight, as you well know." 

She hesitated. "Alright, we'll both look. If you find Angel first, tell him I asked him to meet me at Giles. And if you find Kat . . ." She trailed off uncertainly. "Just . . . just tell her to come back. That they'll understand in time." She suddenly looked at Spike, a new thought obviously lingering in the back of her mind. "Spike . . . . you're not going to blame her for anything are you? I'm sure if Angel found her, she's already had an earful." 

He shook his head. "I don't know what I'm going to say luv. I just want a chance to say it." He turned and left without another word. Buffy heard his pattering feet outside as he made a mad dash to the nearest sewer entrance, black jacket pulled over his head. Buffy turned and pocketed a nearby stake and a small knife just in case, and then went outside to talk to her sister.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************   
  
  
  


"Planning on ending it all by walking in front of a bus then pet? Not the most glamourous way to go out. Think I'd rather have a nice stake. Or maybe a prolonged sunbath. Something a bit common about a vampire squishing beneath a bus wheel. You might live through it too, you know. Death by bus hasn't been tested by the Undead very often." 

Kat turned, her black hair blowing in front of her, obscuring her face from all but fleeting glimpses of silver eyes and pale cheeks. "You found me." 

Spike watched her quietly for a moment. "Always find you, don't I luv? Found you in a glass coffin while you slept, dreaming of princes and ponies, or whatever bloody things dames like you dream of." 

She turned away, shifting away from him from her precarious perch on the edge of the bus stop bench. "Not always. There was a long time when no one find me. When you and Angelus and Drusilla were just vague ideas in fate's future. No one found me then. No one tried, except for those I had no desire to see." 

"I'm sorry pet. Can't help it when I wasn't even born can I?" 

She turned to him finally, sweeping her hair away from her face and staring with huge eyes. "I missed you when you weren't there. One time. Hundreds of years of life and you were there to greet me only one of those times, and I missed you when you weren't there this last time. How did I become so accustomed to having someone there so quickly?" 

"It's human nature to want to be with others Kitten. You just didn't know you were missing it for so long, then got hooked when Mr. Wonderful finally made an appearance in your life." 

She stared down at her hands. He watched with a strange sense of sadness as she scraped a piece of wood she'd pried from the bench down her palm, watching it bleed for only a moment before it began to heal. "I'm not human though, am I? And neither are you. My nature shouldn't be like theirs." 

"We're still human Kitten. Just a more highly evolved version, with more specific dietary needs." He waited for the smile he'd always been able to con out of her. It never came. 

"What do you want Spike?" 

He sighed, slouching more firmly into the tiny porch that hid him from the sun. "I want a place a little more cozy for us to talk in for one. Bit sunny here for me." 

She didn't turn. "Go then." 

"I didn't mean to have a conversation with myself. Frankly, I find myself a bit boring these days. All fangs, no action." 

She turned finally and stood to face him. "I'm done with talking Spike. I'm done with doing my duty and following the rules. I'm done with being the Slayer and making decisions no one else has the power or ability to do. I'm finished with being chosen, and long since tired of being special. I made a choice, right or wrong, and now there's an heir to my throne. There's NOTHING I could do that she is not capable of. I'm no longer needed, and I'm fading into the sunset. So go. Heart to heart talks from someone whose every look bleeds isn't going to change my mind." 

"What are you talking about? What looks do I have that's bleeding?" 

She laughed, an odd hollow sound utterly lacking the usual uncomplicated music of her voice. "You think I don't know how much you want to hate me for turning her? Like Angel does? Like her friends do? You loved the Slayer, in all her insurmountable humanity. A part of you's just dying to loathe me for taking that away from her, and from you. Well go ahead. Blame the world and all it's troubles on me. Maybe I'll take them with me when I go." 

"I don't hate you Kitten. And I don't love Buf-" 

"Just be quiet. You used to be HONEST Spike. William the Bloody, the consummate observer, who makes words into blades. You've never missed a thing and have never failed to confront someone with the bitterest truth you could offer them. You never had to lie, honesty was always a better weapon in your hands than any lie could ever be. So don't lie to me and don't try to lie to yourself. That's Angel's territory." 

Spike started to speak, then hissed in pain as a stray shaft of sunlight hit him in the face. He raised his coat and shifted away from it, swearing loudly. Kat growled in frustration and swept forward, pushing him bodily back into the small post office whose porch he'd been standing on. He led her quickly through its appallingly well windowed interior and into it's tiny basement, with it's hidden sewer entrance. "There WERE people in there Kitten. Might not take kindly to us marching past them into their basement without a by-your-leave." 

"They'll get over it. Goodbye Spike." 

He reached out and caught her by the shoulder as she moved to leave. She spun to face him again, yanking her shoulder away with bruising force and a feral snarl. He stepped back, for the first time realizing what she was capable of. "What do you want Kitten? I'm here to get you? I want you to come back. Buffy, whom I think you should be worrying about more than anyone else, seeing as she's the one you gave the big kiss to, wants you with her. She doesn't blame you. What do you want from me. Want me to do a happy little jig and tell you it's wonderful? I'm not gonna do that luv." 

"I don't want a damn thing from you Spike. I want to be left alone." 

"I think not. You may be ready to lay it all out and take your final bow, but the rest of us aren't ready to let you go yet." 

"You don't understand." 

"Then tell me. Make me understand." 

Kat blinked in astonishment as her own words, the ones she'd thrown at Angelus as a challenge were parroted back to her. She stubbornly pushed away the sudden comparison that arose in her mind at the nearly identical demand Spike had made of her. "You cannot understand. It's not in you." 

"Try me." 

She shook her head. "I was born more than human. I was born the protector of humanity. I made the decision to abandon the human in myself, to become something more. But I never went against that basic thread that wove all that I was into one. I was a vampire, but not really. Not truly. But when I fed on Buffy, when I went against my own nature and CREATED another vampire, I betrayed everything that I was. And now . . . ." She looked down at her own hands as they ran nervously over the cracks in the wall beside her. "Now I feel that other part of me, the part I've worked so hard to control. It's . . . . awake. Every moment I have to fight to control myself, to not give into this new, primal desire I have." She looked up at him, the dim flourescent lights of the basement giving her eyes a strange almost blue tint for a moment. "It's getting stronger, more insistent. What happens when I'm too weak to control it? Will I become a vampire super-hero? Able to drain humans in a single bite, outrace speeding victims?" 

Spike bit back a smile at her comic book comparisons. "I've never met anyone stronger than you Kitten. Nothing's going to overpower you unless you let it." 

Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it. "What if I want it to?" 

He stared at her. "Do you?" 

She sank onto an overturned crate that lay against the wall. "Sometimes. I'm just so tired. And now the only bright bits of my life are gone." 

He frowned. "Angel?" 

She nodded. "Angel, Buffy . . . you. I lived to protect my slayers, and now I've betrayed one." She raised her hand against his attempts at contradicting her. "No matter what anyone, me and Buffy included, tries to say, in the most basic form, I've betrayed her. Angel will never get over what he feels for me. He will hate me for centuries. And you . . . . you try to hide it but there's accusation in you as well. Admit it Spike, a part of you wishes you could kill me for what I did." She smiled a bit. "You always were the chivalrous idiot, eager to protect your little woman from the big bad world. Even when the little woman was a certifiably insane vampire who was actually older than you." 

He didn't try to deny it. "Maybe I do. But there have been a lot more times when I wanted to kill Buffy than times I've had the urge to do YOU in. It doesn't change anything. I don't know if I love Buffy. Maybe it's just this bloody chip in my head. I'd like to think so. I'm not usually so dense as to develop a ridiculous CRUSH on a girl who'd stake me without thinking twice. I don't know what Buffy is to me . . . but I know what YOU are. I know what you mean, and that I DO love you." 

She looked at him, and for a moment she seemed so . . . . human. "But not like Buffy." 

His eyebrows shot upwards in astonishment. "No, I suppose not Kitten." 

She looked away. "Why?" 

He yanked another crate from where it lay beside her perch and tossed it down opposite her, plopping onto it and rummaging through his pocket for a cigarette. "You know why." 

She shook her head. "No. I don't. You and Angel are so hopelessly in love with her . . . and she's so much like me. There is something so desperately similar in us, it's almost eerie. So why her? Why didn't either of you ever think of looking at me the way you look at her? Because I'm a vampire?" 

He shook his head. "I ran 'round the world with a vampire for a hundred years, and loved her with all my heart. What makes you think you being a vampire had anything to do with it?" 

"You didn't really love Drusilla. She was just an idea to you. You're savior, you're beautiful evil princess who saved you from the mundane world of humanity." 

Spike sat forward, giving up his quest for a cigarette. "What do you know of love?" 

Kat met his eyes and he saw again that bleak despair in her expression. "Nothing. I know nothing at all." 

He blinked at that. "Well . . . . maybe you know something. Maybe you're even right. What I feel for Buffy is . . . different from what I felt for Dru. But I thought I loved her, I still do think that." 

She nodded her head dully. "I wish I knew what it felt like." 

"Kitten . . . . you never wanted to know." Her expression turned startled and she began to speak to contradict him. This time, he halted her with a wave of his hand and continued. "I may have already been spoken for Kat, but do you think that you didn't turn my head? There's something in you, something primal and beautiful. And you think Angel didn't watch you walk across a room? Think he didn't have little souly vampire dreams about you? You're mistaken luv, we love you as a friend . . . as a companion. And the reason we never thought of more than that was because YOU NEVER LET US." He continued with a sigh when she didn't interrupt. "From the first day I met you, it was clear that you didn't want that from me. You smiled and made friends, but you pushed everything and everyone away with both hands. Ever the one in control, always with a smidgen of distance between you and whoever you were with." His eyes fell on a packet of cigarettes stashed on top of a nearby pile of boxes. He grabbed them and settled back onto his crate, lighting one with a silver lighter and sighing contentedly as he began puffing away. "You wonder why we didn't love you? Why we love Buffy instead? Buffy's what you might have been, but more. She's got what you had, but she's also got something about her that's utterly unique and intoxicating and overwhelming. You can't look away from either one of you bloody women, but when you watch Buffy . . . it's like looking at the sun. You feel warmer afterwards, even if your eyes burn a bit. You're like watching the moon. No matter how much you stare, no matter how large or small, you're always distant and cool." He smiled a bit at her. "She tries hard to push us away, her friends, her enemies, her lovers. But in the end she can't do it, and she uses us to become stronger instead. That's what's so addictive about her. When you're with her, it's like your contributing to greatness, to something bigger and better than this bloody half-assed existence I'm stuck in now." He leaned forward and twisted a lock of her hair around one pale finger. "When I watch you, I'm with you, I feel like a spectator, watching something amazing from the cheap seats at the top of the stadium. When I watch her, I feel like I'm standing in right in the pit, and she'll reach down and pull me on stage now and again." 

Kat watched him twirling her hair, not speaking. He waited, seconds turning to moments, each one feeling like it stretched longer than the last. Finally he spoke again, hating the tension of the silence. "Kat, you know me. I just talk, sometimes I'm wrong." He grinned. "Not often, but sometimes." 

She shook her head violently. "No . . . you're not wrong." 

His voice was quiet and his eyes searching. "So what are we doing here Kitten? If you know the problem, can't you change it?" He hesitated. "Do you want him that badly luv? Does it bother you that much to know he loves her?" 

Her eyes widened. "No! It's not like that. I want her to have him, and I don't feel like she does about him, I never could. I just . . . wanted to know what I lacked." 

"Nothing luv. You're just different, despite all the similarities. Buffy's a pack hunter, always will be. She may be the top dog in her pack, but she has to have that group backing her up. You, you can lead, and you do it well. But at heart, you'll always be a solitary beast." 

"No matter what she did, no matter how she sinned. He could never hate her." 

He smiled again. "He doesn't hate you either. It's not in him. He's just angry and all . . . . why don't you go stake him though. Just in case he doesn't get over it." 

She snorted at that. "I was wondering when the spell of sensitivity would fade. It took longer than I expected." 

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm off my game." 

She smiled for the first time. "I still don't want to stay Spike. I don't want to go back. I don't want to be the slayer anymore." 

He pulled her to her feet and flung an arm over her small shoulders. "So don't be the slayer. Just be my Kitten, and Buffy's helper, like the rest of us. She needs you. And whether or not the silly git knows it, Angel needs you too. And so do I. No one knows how to have any fun around here, I desperately need you to help alleviate my boredom." 

She shook her head. "She doesn't need me. I gave her everything she'll need. She already has more natural strength than I do. With time, she'll be my equal, and then she'll quickly be my better. I'm not needed. Not anymore." 

He arched an eyebrow upwards. "So . . . not been having any dreams then, have we? No strutting around with blue people in the middle of fog with an invisible Buffy?" 

Silver eyes glared at him. "I take it Buffy told you?" 

"No. I called Miss Cleo." She gave him a blank look. "Never mind. Remind me to introduce you to the wonders of psychic phone lines later." 

She sighed in defeat. "Fine. I'll go back with you. And I'll help and be a good little Twilight, like I've been for my entire overlong life. But promise me. If I start to . . . . change. If I lose control, you'll stake me. Finish me. No hesitation, no second chances. Promise me Spike. I'll go and I'll trust and I'll fight, but only if you promise." 

He stared at her. "I don't know if I could do that to you luv. I'd still want you around, no matter what you're cuisine preference." 

"Then I can't go." 

He hesitated, trying to imagine himself destroying her. Finally he slowly nodded his platinum head. "Fine. You start looking like you'll take a bite out of one of the little Scoobie clan, I'll stake you before you do. Think I could wait till you take out that Xander boy though?" 

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and followed him as he led her, grumbling about his wounded shoulder, to the sewer entrance.   
  


____________________________________________________________________________ 


	13. Guarded Thoughts

Author's Note: Here it is, as promised. I'm still working without a beta reader, and I SUCK at catching problems in my own stuff, though I can usually see it in others. Probably because I skim too much or something when I read my own. I dunno. Anyways, here it is. Thanks to all.   
  


### **Part Twelve**

### **Guarded Thoughts**

###### "... as we wake or sleep, we grow strong or we grow weak, and at last 

###### some crisis shows us what we have become." 

###### -- Bishop Westcott

  
  


"Well-umm . . Oh! What about Riley? He's just normal now." Willow nearly dropped the heavy book in her lap in her excitement. 

Giles rubbed his tired eyes as the words on the page in front of him began doing odd little squiggle dances while he tried to read them. "It's certainly a possibility. Buffy seemed to feel that it was someone close to our, ah, circle. Someone with no discernible powers. So that takes you and Tara and Buffy out. Cordelia is already a seer, so isn't a likely candidate either, and Anya is a former demon, not likely to be it." 

Tara stretched and pushed the straggles of stray blonde hair that had escaped from the knot she'd tied it into at the nape of her neck. "Mr. Giles, you know a-a lot about magic and Willow said you summoned some kind of a-a demon when you were young- I mean when you were younger." Giles slammed his book shut, muttering something about not being a bloody dinosaur. Tara blushed and continued. "So that probably means it's not you, either. Who does that leave?" 

Giles began ticking them off on his fingers. "Off the top of my head, Riley, Wesley, Joyce, Dawn, and Xander." 

Xander rolled his eyes. "It's probably soldier boy. Some cosmic attempt to make him stop whining about the loss of his super-powers." 

Giles shot him an annoyed look. "He does seem to be a top candidate." 

Cordelia glanced up. "What about Gunn?" 

Xander paused in his reach for another book. "Who?" 

Wesley spoke up. "Gunn works with Angel and us. He IS human, and has very little knowledge of the arcane. However he's not in Buffy's immediate circle, so that seems to eliminate him." 

"He's in OUR circle." Cordelia pointed out. "And we're in Buffy's. Maybe it doesn't have to be immediate. Maybe it's like, six degrees of Buffy." 

Giles slapped the table in frustration. "It's possible that it is him. It's possible that it's MANY people. It's too difficult to isolate one person when we haven't the vaguest idea what the powers we're looking for entail. And when they most likely have not even been 'awakened' yet. Until we know more, this is all fruitless speculation." 

Tara and Willow glanced significantly at one another, Tara nudged Willow pointedly. Willow gave in and cleared her throat nervously. "Giles, um, what if there was, ah, a way to wake those powers right up?" 

He peered at her over the edge of his crooked glasses. "What are you talking about Willow?" 

She fidgeted nervously. "Well say, hypothetically speaking, that I'd happened to somehow come into possession of a copy of an old Egyptian spell book you absolutely refused to let me buy for the store when it came on the market. And say, just for laughs, we'd read the book and seen a spell to find and bring out latent talents. And we . . . don't look at me like that. It was entirely an accident. The book just jumped right in my bag one day when I drove to LA to buy it with Tara . . . wait. That's not what I meant to say." 

Giles was scowling by now. "Willow, do you have any idea how dangerous that book is? It has spells that could destroy entire cities! How did you manage to afford it?" 

She was looking decidedly uncomfortable. "It's probably best that you don't ask." 

He glared. "Fine. Don't tell me. But if I suddenly find that Sunnydale's been blown up, you know who I'm going to blame." 

She frowned. "That's not fair. People try to blow this town up all the time. What if some demon sends it to smithereens, through no fault of mine." 

"Willow, focus please. Do you have the book with you?" 

She nodded and went over to where her bookbag was carelessly slung over a table. She removed the book and handed it to Giles, who stared at it as if waiting for it to bite. "It's on page 86." 

He flipped the book open. "How dangerous is the spell?" 

Tara spoke up. "Not at all from what I can tell. The authors call it a simple and risk free spell. Of course, you do have to consider the source . . ." 

He grunted in reply as he read the spell. It DID seem fairly straightforward. "Do you have to cast it for each person we suspect?" 

Tara shook her head. "I-I don't think so. If we focus on the people we think it might be . . and Cordelia or someone chants the spell with us and focuses on Gunn, since we don't know them, I think it might act on all of them." 

Giles hesitated, then glanced toward Wesley. "What do you think?" 

Wesley look astonished that Giles was asking for his opinion. He walked forward and read the spell quickly. "I think it's our only chance. It seems to be relatively safe. If the girls feel they can perform it, I think we should give it a try." 

Giles nodded and Willow and Tara immediately began setting up supplies and preparing a large and complex chalk pattern on the floor, to Giles dismay. "Couldn't we have drawn the symbols OUTSIDE and not on my living room floor?" 

Willow looked at him like he was crazy. "Giles, it's HOT outside." He sighed and walked into the kitchen to get another cup of tea. Behind him, Willow began to teach Cordelia the spell and Xander laid his head down on the table, lost in thought as he watched the preparations from the corner of his eye, wishing there was something he could do to help.   
  


____________________________________________________________________________   
  


Buffy walked with hurried steps toward Giles house. She was anxious to find Spike, see if he'd had any luck finding Kat, or Angel. Buffy had searched the graveyard and Angel's old mansion, and the factory. She'd even checked the old high school, but found no trace of either of them. She hadn't really expected to find Kat anywhere except the graveyard, but she had been fairly confident she'd find Angel. Now, despite her best efforts at staying apathetic, she was getting worried for both of them. Visions of them attacking one another, stakes in hand, were beginning to show up with alarming frequency in her mind. She finally sped into sight of Giles and flung the door open, looking quickly about, her survey coming to a quick and startled stop when her eyes fell on Tara, Cordelia, and Willow, kneeling in the middle of a large chalk drawing of a pyramid and some strange symbols and chanting in a language Buffy couldn't even begin to understand. Her hand unconsciously went to the stake in her pocket as she looked around, checking for enemies. 

The three girls voices rose suddenly and all three flung a handful of shining purple powder into the eye drawn at the peak of the pyramid. Their voices fell silent and a strange keening sound filled the room, suddenly, with a whoosh of suddenly expelled air, a wave of purple tinted energy spread over the room, Buffy was knocked to her knees as, was anyone else standing in the area. Books fell from tables with sharp thuds and stray papers scattered across the floor in a windblown mess. As suddenly as it appeared, the purple force was gone. Buffy pulled herself to her feet and look around as everyone else began doing the same thing. She considered her words and then spoke in a perfectly even tone. "Could someone please tell me what that was?" 

Willow climbed to her feet, pulling Tara up beside her a moment later and offering a hand to Cordelia. She pulled the other girl up as well, than turned to face Buffy, smiling widely. "Hi Buffy! We missed you!" She ran forward and wrapped the slayer in a fierce hug." 

Buffy hugged her back and then pushed her away, smiling in confusion. "Thanks Will. But what did you just do? Should I be afraid." 

Willow shook her head, still smiling. "I don't think so. It worked perfectly. I think. Did it work? Anyone feel any different? Wesley? Xander?" 

Buffy spoke before the others could reply. "Different how? Could someone please tell me what's going on?" 

Willow quickly told the slayer what they had done. When Buffy understood, they both turned to Giles. Willow spoke quickly. "What do you think? Did it work?" 

He nodded. "It seemed to work just as it should. Perhaps someone should call Gunn and Riley, see if they notice any new abilities." 

Cordelia pulled her cell phone out of her purse. "I'll call Gunn!" 

Giles turned to Buffy. "You'll call Riley then?" Seeing the look on Buffy's face he backpedaled quickly. "Or I could call him. It's probably better if I do anyway . . . . isn't it?" 

Willow glanced from him to Buffy and back again. "Why? Buffy, did something happen with Riley? Is everything okay?" She pulled the other girl away and spoke to her in hushed tones. "What happened? Is Riley mad about the whole vampire thing? 'Cause maybe he just needs time to adjust and-" 

"Will, it's not that." Buffy sighed and turned back to Giles. "I'll call him." She looked back at Willow, who stood waiting with wide eyes. "Will, it's a long story and I don't want to go into it, but Riley and I . . . well, we're not Riley and I anymore. We're just Riley and Buffy, two unrelated topics. He doesn't even know about the vampire thing yet. I'm sure that would just tip the balance further in the 'relationship difficulty" way." 

"I'm sorry Buffy. If you need to talk or anything, I'm here." Willow hugged her friend quickly and then left Buffy alone to make her call. 

She picked up the phone and dialed Riley's number. She listened in steadily mounting dread as the phone rang and rang. Finally she gave up with a sigh. He either wasn't there, or he wasn't answering. "No good. He's not there." 

Giles looked as if he were about to ask her something, but was interrupted by Cordelia. "Guys, I just talked to Gunn. He says nothing's different that he knows of." 

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, it might not be instantaneous. Or it may be that Riley was the one affected. We'll just have to wait and find out. Xander, perhaps you should go over to Riley's dorm? See if he's home and just not answering the phone?" 

Buffy shook her head. "No. If anyone should go it's me. Let's give him a little while. If he doesn't answer in half an hour I'll go there." 

Giles nodded. "Why don't we all just get a little rest then. It's been a long time since we all slept." 

Everyone nodded in agreement and began finding somewhere to settle down or stretch out. Buffy settled back in the small recliner next to the bookshelf. Her thoughts wandered randomly before settling on Riley. She thought of all the time she'd spent with him, and how, sometimes, he just made her so happy. She offered him a silent apology, knowing she'd been less than fair, but that it was the best thing she could do. Still, she would miss him. Especially at night, when she was cold. It had always felt so good to lay in his arms and feel the world slip away and just focus on him and what he- 

"Buffy, none of us is interested in the details of you and Riley's life, thank you. I'm sorry you broke up and everything, but I really don't want to hear about it. It's . . . icky." 

Buffy jerked up and stared in astonishment at Xander. "What did you say?" 

He looked up at her from his slouched position on the sofa. "I'm sorry if I'm not Mr. Sensitive, but maybe we could talk about your love life later? Things aren't exactly peachy keen for the rest of us either, and gratuitous stories of bedtime cuddling is not lifting the spirits up, thank you." 

Willow traded a silent glance with Buffy. "Xander . . . . . Buffy didn't say anything." 

He grimaced. "She did so. She was going on and on about her and Riley. Not that it's not a FASCINATING topic, but enough is en-" 

"Xander, she didn't say a word . . . . are you saying you heard what she was thinking?" Giles was almost owl eyed with surprise. 

"No . . . . she didn't say anything? Really?" At everyone's silent head shaking, Xander suddenly grinned. "Then I guess I did. Say, Tara, Willow, why don't you do some serious thinking about your relationship while we're here. . ." 

Willow glared and Tara grinned and Giles looked at Buffy. She looked back and smiled. "Someone who '_will possess the power to clear minds and erase memories._' Odd, but I don't remember hearing anything about READING minds." 

Xander grinned again. "Fringe benefits?" 

Wesley was already rifling through books, searching for references to mind reading. "This could have serious repercussions. And untrained mind-reader . . . these powers usually develop early in life and grow in strength, so they can be controlled by the time they develop fully. Sudden possession of these . . . abilities could be dire." 

Giles nodded in agreement. "Yes . . . we all remember what happened when Buffy could suddenly read minds. She nearly went mad." 

Buffy paled suddenly. "Is that going to happen to Xander?" 

"Most likely not. You're powers were unnatural, and could not be controlled. Xander's seem to be more along the lines of a talent, granted by The Powers That Be. He should be able to control them, but I doubt it will be easy." He glanced at Xander, who was staring intently at Cordelia, who was blushing bright pink. 

Xander, a grin still on his lips shook his finger at Cordelia. "Why Cordy! I never knew!" 

Giles sighed, wondering why Xander of all people had to be granted the power to see inside people's minds. Xander turned to him and smiled. "Because God has a sense of humor after all." Giles agreed silently as Xander settled back in his chair, a clown grin painted on his face and his eyes closed. Everyone else sat back uneasily, trying, without success, to avoid thinking of things Xander would love to hear.   
  


Everyone was privately relieved to have a distraction present when the door was flung open and Angel ran, lightly singed, through it, kicking it shut behind him and lowering the jacket he'd held over his head. He looked around, his eyes settling on Buffy. "Hi everyone. What did I miss." He smiled faintly, suspecting that he'd missed quite a bit and not at all sorry for missing it. 

Buffy glanced at Xander, who was peering at Angel in obvious frustration. She grinned inwardly, glad she'd never mentioned to him that you can't read a vampire's mind. "Well, the short version is Kat's gone, you're here, and Xander can read minds. The long version is much longer." 

Angel glanced at Xander in confusion. "Xander can read minds?" 

Xander nodded. "Yup. But I don't think you have one." 

Buffy laughed out loud at that as Angel scowled. "You can't read a vampire's mind Xander. It doesn't work." 

"Because it's empty?" 

Buffy snorted and ignored him as Angel's scowl deepened. "Angel, we'll fill you in on all the gory details, but I want to wait for Spike and Kat to get here, so we don't have to repeat it." She saw Angel's face go stony at the mention of the other slayer's name. She frowned at him. "Angel, what did you say to her? They told me you went after her." 

He looked away. "Nothing. It's between her and me." 

Buffy's frown turned to a full fledge scowl and her hands went to her hips, obviously about to demand that she be told the truth, but Xander interrupted, his brown eyes puzzled. "Hey Buf, if I can't hear vampire . . . . why can I hear you?" 

Buffy looked at him in startled realization. "I-I don't know. Giles?" 

The Watcher shook his head, his face as puzzled as everyone else's. "I don't know Buffy. It must be some other complication of you being a slayer as well as a vampire with a soul." 

Buffy turned to Angel. "But you said it was the same reason we don't have a reflection . . and I don't see myself in mirrors. So why would this be different?" 

He shrugged. "I don't know Buffy." He watched as she turned to Giles, talking animatedly as he paged through a thick book. He was filled with such a rush of emotion, guilt, pain, anger, that he felt like someone punched him in the chest. He apologized to her silently, for bringing so many terrible things into her life. 

Suddenly Xander leapt to his feet with a loud "HA!" He pointed at Angel, grinning in triumph. "I heard that! You're sorry! I heard it!! I CAN read your mind. Take THAT Deadboy! Score one for the Great Swami Harris!" 

Buffy turned back slowly, rolling her eyes at the Great Swami. "Why now and not before?" 

Angel looked away. "Maybe because I wasn't feeling anything strong enough?" 

Xander shrugged. "Maybe." 

"Mind readers have never been able to read the thoughts of a vampire Rupert. What do you think this means?" 

Giles looked appraisingly at Xander. "I don't know. It could be that Xander has a type of power not before seen. Or it could be that it is simply a very powerful talent. There's no way of being sure." 

"It is because he is the only one." 

They all turned to face the door. Kat stood there, holding the door open. Spike dashed through a moment later, complaining loudly about the burning sunlight. Angel's face turned to emotionless stone, and Xander's grin disappeared, his brown eyes going hostile. Cordelia took a step back without thought. Giles simply stood staring. He was the first to speak. "Because he's the only one? What do you mean?" 

Kat stepped away, letting the door slam shut. Her gaze was tentative, shy, totally unlike the confident and powerful slayer they'd met only last night. "When first we had to erase knowledge of the spell, we had a number of mind readers of different abilities. Now there is only one, and he has to do the same task. It stands to reason that he would be gifted with much stronger powers, which would grant him additional abilities, such as being able to divine the thoughts of the Undead, as well as the living." 

Giles nodded in understanding. "It makes sense. Or at least as much sense as anything else in this whole bloody mess does. So I suppose the question is, what do we do now?" 

Buffy spoke up. "Let's make sure we're all on the same page, and everyone knows everything that's happened. We'll go from there." Slowly, with help from Kat, she told again the story of her dream. 

When they'd finished, Angel nodded in agreement. "You're right. It sounds like those were the oracles. I assume they were talking about Xander? He who must be protected?" 

Buffy nodded. "So it seems. What enemy of yours could they be talking about?" 

Angel stayed silent. Cordelia looked at him in frustration. "Angel has A LOT of enemies. Not really a people person. But our biggest ones are Wolfram & Heart." She told them quickly of their history with the law firm and it's evil tendencies, finishing with the story of how they'd brought Darla back to life. 

Buffy's eyes widened. "Darla's back? How come you never told me?" 

Angel stared at the floor. "I didn't want to worry you. I can handle Darla on my own." 

Cordelia snorted. "Sure, you've done a bang-up job so far of MOPING her to death too." He shot her a quelling look which she ignored. "And now she's not human anymore. Another old friend dropped by and brought back vampire Darla." She glanced at Spike and fell silent. 

Buffy missed the significant glance and pressed on. "Who turned her?" When the failed to answer she turned to Wesley, who avoided her glance. Finally, with a flash of insight, she turned to Xander. "Who?" She asked him briefly. 

He sighed and answered. "Drusilla." He looked quickly away as Buffy narrowed her eyes at him. "You knew already didn't you?" He looked everywhere but at her. "You did! You knew about Darla and Dru. And you didn't tell me! What, am I too fragile to handle the truth all the sudden?" 

Xander spread his hands helplessly. "Cordelia made me promise not to tell. She knew Angel wouldn't want you to know." 

Buffy glared at all of them wordlessly. Xander squirmed as he caught wind of a few of her thoughts on their silence. 

Giles spoke into the quiet. "Why don't we continue where you left off. After Buffy's vision, Willow, care to take it from here?" Willow outlined the spell they had done for those who didn't already know. When she finished, the hush of the room resumed. Each of them looked equally lost and confused. No one seemed to know quite what to do. 

Kat stared at her feet, trying to gather her thoughts into a coherent whole. Her entire life, she'd never let anything bother her. She kept everything far away, distant. Nothing was ever close enough to hurt her. Suddenly all that had changed, and she wanted desperately to belong with this group, to have what Buffy had. She'd thought for so long that this was all she wanted, to know that a slayer was able to live this kind of life. Now she knew, and it wasn't enough. She was selfish, she wanted this for herself. The easy camaraderie and shining love that they shared with such ease. She lifted her eyes and met Xander's eyes. She flushed and looked away from the understanding in his gaze, appalled as she realized he'd 'heard' her. The seething hatred didn't shine in him every time he glanced at her now. Instead there was a wary resignation and a glimmer of sympathy. She looked back at him and drew a deep breath. "I don't know what we can do, but I know that Xander's gifts will grow, and will become difficult for him to control. I'm no mind reader, but I know more about it than most. I can help you, if you let me." The last she spoke directly to him, her voice almost shy. 

Xander stared at her for a moment, then nodded his assent. "I'd like that. It's already starting to give me a hell of a headache." 

Buffy suddenly looked around, her brow creasing in confusion. "Xander . . . . where's Anya?" 

He sat back wearily. "Somewhere else. She . . . . decided that she didn't want to go the same way I was going anymore." He shrugged. "She doesn't want to spend her mortal life in constant danger, or watching me run off into mortal peril every week. She wants something calm and normal and human, like most people have. I can't give her that, so I left." 

Buffy knelt next to him and hugged him, Willow doing the same from the other side. "I'm sorry Xander." 

He laughed a bit emptily. "It's okay, look at what I get instead. Two girls on their knees at my feet." Both of them slapped him lightly and his smiled became a bit more genuine. "Willow! You have such a dirty mind!" 

Willow blushed a bright pink and smacked him again. "Shut up Xander." she muttered, looking to see if anyone had been listening and sighing in defeat when their wide smiles said that they had. She saw Spike looking at her with great interest and couldn't help but grin a bit. 

Spike returned the grin and glanced at Buffy. "Maybe Soldier Boy and Demon Girl should get together for a little commiserating." His grin faded as Buffy glared. "Or not." 

Cordelia looked from one to the other slowly. "Alright . . . . so where do we go from here?" 

Buffy turned to Angel and, with a sideways glance toward Kat. "On to La I suppose." 

Angel hesitated, clearly unwilling to let her into his private war. Finally he nodded in agreement. 

Buffy stood. "Let's all rest today and tonight then. We'll leave tomorrow first thing." She smiled at Angel. "I've heard your place has plenty of room for us all." 

He smiled back and nodded again. "And then some." 

"Good, we'll stay there and then have a nice friendly consultation with our new lawyers. Wesley, why don't you stay here? If that's okay with Giles of course? You can have a little Ex-Watcher slumber party. Drink tea and talk about 'the good old days' when Slayers jumped when you told them too." Both men glared at her, though Giles nodded in assent. "Cordy, you're welcome to come stay with me if you want. Up to you. Kat, you can come with me as well if you want." 

Kat opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted before she began by Xander. "Why doesn't Kat come with me? We can start my Jedi training." 

Buffy glanced at Kat to see if the other Slayer had an objections. Seeing none, she smiled. "That sounds good. I will see you all tomorrow." She left, Cordelia trailing after her. Kat gave Spike a smile and a wave goodbye as she followed Xander out the door. 

Giles glanced around the room at the three other occupants. "Right then. Wesley, I'm off to get some sleep. You're welcome to the couch, as I haven't another bed. Spike . . . there's always the bathtub." 

He glared at the Watcher. "Right mate. I remember how bloody comfortable your tub is. I'll stick with my own crypt thank you." 

Giles glanced at Angel. "I've only got the one sofa. Perhaps you could sleep in the recliner?" 

Spike grinned and slung an arm around Angel's shoulders, which Angel promptly shrugged off with an angry jerk. "Grandad can stay with me Watcher Man. Family matters ya know. Lots of catching up to do." 

Giles bit back a smile at Angel's appalled expression. "Fine. Play nice then you two." He turned and trooped up the stairs, leaving another former Watcher stretched out on the sofa, already asleep, and two vampires glaring meaningfully at one another.   
  
  
  


____________________________________________________________________________ 


	14. Before the Storm

Author's Note: Thanks again to all who've read and reviewed and for the overwhelming amount of kind e-mails and BETA reading offers I received. I do now have a BETA reader, and have several people on backup, so thanks again to all of you. Thanks also to the e-mails from people (you know who you are) who've been a TAD BIT impatient about the posting of new parts. To those people, threats of torture and death won't get you in any sooner. (Gratuitous SNL quote alert, anyone who knows what skit that's from gets a bright shiny penny)Not that I'm not flattered by the threat of mayhem. :) Okay all, here's the next part. Thanks again!   
  


### **Part Thirteen**

### **Before the Storm**

###### "The force is with you young Skywalker, but you are not a Jedi yet."

###### -- Darth Vader

  
  
  
  


"Focus and concentrate." 

"I AM focusing and concentrating." 

"No. You're not. People who are focused do not fidget. People who are concentrating do not hum the tune to some inexplicable song about a dragon who smokes." 

Xander looked thoroughly annoyed. "I TOLD you. It's PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON, and I heard it on the radio this morning. It's stuck in my head now." 

Kat smiled. "If you were focusing, your head would be too full to think of the song. Now close your eyes." 

Xander sighed and settled himself Indian-style on the sofa, legs crossed beneath him, thumb and forefinger meeting in a circle while the rest of his fingers were outstretched, looking like nothing so much as a meditating hippie. Kat gave a frustrated sigh and reached forward and pushed his hands down and pulled his feet out from beneath him so that they hung to the floor as they were supposed to. Xander yelped in surprise as he nearly slid from the sofa to the floor. He glared. "What did you do that for?" 

She mimed his position from a moment ago, managing to make it look more ridiculous than he had. "THIS is not focusing. THIS is posing. Focusing and concentrating has nothing to do with sitting funny." 

Xander considered than nodded. "Alright. I getcha. Teach on Yoda." 

"For the last time, STOP calling me that. It makes me sound like a type of cheese." 

Xander looked grieved. "As soon as this is over, I'm tying you to a chair and renting a copy of the holy trilogy and force feeding you some quality cinema." 

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. You do that. But for now, let's get back to the task at hand. I'd like to make SOME progress before you keel over from exhaustion, okay?" 

Xander opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and settled for a quick nod. He settled himself back comfortably on the sofa and closed his eyes. Kat heaved a sigh of relief and began to speak. "Try to clear your mind of all unnecessary thoughts and emotions. Use that part of yourself, that new talent and reach out. Can you hear what anyone is thinking?" 

Xander cocked his head as if listening to a faraway voice. "Yes. I hear a couple down the hall." 

"What are they thinking about?" 

He made a face. "She's thinking about him, pretty much yelling at him to come and talk to her." 

"And the husband?" 

"He's thinking about football. And the cheerleaders. It's not pretty." 

"Tell me, do you hear their thoughts as if they were speaking them, or is it more of an image?" 

He thought a moment. "Both I guess. I can see them as they see themselves, or as they see what's around them, and I can hear their voice . . . . like a voice over saying what they're thinking." 

"Good. Now I want you to focus on the woman. I want you to try to block out what the husband is thinking and focus on her. People never have a single thought in their minds there's always a multitude of things running through their heads. What you are hearing now is only what they are mentally shouting. The subtle things, the half finished thoughts, the wistful moments- those aren't coming to you yet. I want you to try to get past those exterior thoughts and hear what's underneath them. Do you understand?" 

Xander was squinting in heavy thought. "Yes . . . . I can't stop hearing him though . . . UGH! I like to consider myself a fairly kinky fellow, but . . . .ewwwww. Granted, cheerleaders are fairly limber, but I still doubt the logistics of that particular . . . " His eyes popped open and he grimaced and gave a melodramatic shudder. At her raised eyebrows and deadpan expression, he slammed his eyes shut again. "Okay, okay. Sorry." 

She shook her head, a smile going unseen by him. "Try harder to push him away. It's not easy. You have to shift your attention and push him away at the same time." 

"He's starting to fade. He's not so loud now, more of a background hum." 

"Can you hear anything different coming from her?" 

"She's still thinking about him . . . but she's also thinking about someone else. Someone named Danielle. I think it's her daughter. She wishes she would visit. Whoa! Just got a really quick image of a doctor's office. I think she's worried about an appointment she has tomorrow. Yeah, now she's thinking about it more. She has a lump in her . . . . umm . . . chest area. She's worried it's something bad." 

Kat smiled excitedly. "Wonderful!" He cracked an eye open and gave her a dubious look. "Oh I didn't mean about that poor woman, I meant you. You're doing very well!" 

"Thanks. What now?" 

Kat pondered a moment. "Now I want you to reach out further. Block both the man and his wife and reach further away. Try to hear someone from a further distance." 

He craned his neck a bit and his forehead crinkled. "Okay . . . . There's someone . . . I don't know how far. She's just thinking about where she is now. Okay, now she's looking out the window. She's a single mother . . . . Hey! I know where she is. She lives like five blocks from here! Yeah, long distance mind reader now." 

"Focus Xander." 

"Oh right." 

"What is she thinking about?" 

"Umm . . . she's thinking about flowers. Dead flowers. Oh . . . dead flowers on her husband's grave. She can't afford to buy anymore flowers and the ones she planted on her husband's grave are all dead. She's . . . upset about it." His expression was sad. 

Kat hesitated. "Xander do you . . . feel what she's feeling?" 

He hesitated and then nodded. "A little bit. Like . . . sunlight. It's just a touch of warmth or cold from far away. You know it's not coming from you but you still feel it." 

"What is beneath the flowers?" 

"I told you. Her husband's grave." 

She bit back a sharp reply. "I meant her thoughts. What THOUGHTS are beneath the thoughts about flowers?" 

"Oh. I knew that." She smiled faintly again. "Umm . . . a little girl with red hair. Her daughter I think. She keeps thinking about her crying. Something about her not doing well at school. Oh wait, the daughter just came home. She's upset, thinking about a boy. Oh, a mean boy. He said nasty things to her. She doesn't want her mother to see her crying again. She's going to her room." 

"Okay Xander, focus on the little girl." 

"She's still crying. Thinking about that boy and his friends." 

"Can you tell me the girl's name?" 

He was silent for a long moment. "Noooo . . . she's not thinking about her name. I can tell you the boy's name. It's Ryan Gardner. Write that down. I plan on kicking his ass later." 

She grinned. "Duly noted. Now I want you to try something Xander. I want you to focus hard on that little girl's name, and I want you to try and communicate to her that she needs to think about her name." 

"You want me to try to tell her what to think? Like telepathy?" 

"No. Not exactly. I wish I had a bit more of your talent, it would make it easier to teach you. Some few mind readers have the ability to . . . direct other people's thoughts. Push them to think about the information they need to know. Say a man knows where a treasure is buried, but he is familiar with mind reading techniques and knows how to shield his thoughts. It's difficult to do, but some people CAN thwart your kind with such tactics. One with the ability to direct thoughts, could defeat their shielding by forcing them to think about the information they need." 

"Okay . . . I think I understand. I'll try." Minutes passed and Xander stayed silent. Kat surveyed the living room of his apartment, privately surprised that the boy could afford to live in such a nice place. Suddenly he spoke, startling her. "Katie. Her name is Katie." His face broke out into a wide smile and his opened eyes twinkled a bit. "I got her to think her name, and then I had her think of what color her bike is. It's blue." 

Kat grinned back. "You sir, are more gifted than you know." 

He closed his eyes again, his chest puffing out in a show of manly bravado. "Oh I know. Believe me, I know." She snorted at that and he laughed a bit. 

"Okay, now we're going to try one more thing." 

"What's this we stuff? I'm the one doing the mind reading here. You're just a glorified cheerleader." He opened his eyes and smiled again to show he was kidding. 

She raised a dark eyebrow and spoke in a haughty voice. "Moi? I am Gouda, the mighty Jedi puppet. You are nothing without me." 

He picked up a pillow from the sofa and buried his face in it. "It's YODA. And MUPPET. As I told you the first time you told me to stop calling you that." 

She waved a hand airily and pulled his pillow away. "Gouda, Yoda, whatever. Now close your eyes and focus on Katie again." 

He complied, grumbling. "Slavedriver." 

She smiled. "Is she still thinking about what those boys said?" 

"Yes. She's very upset." 

"I want you to focus on those thoughts. Make her focus on them and hold them in her mind. And then I want you to try to take them away." 

"Whhhaaaat?" 

"Take them away. Pull them from her memory and into your own." 

He bit his lip. "Isn't that some kind of moral no-no? Depriving people of their memories, even if they are bad ones?" 

She lifted her hand helplessly. "It's something that's not exactly a wonderful thing to do . . . but you have to learn. And it IS a relatively minor thing we're taking from her. And an unpleasant one at that. I'm sorry, but there's just no other way for you to learn." 

He nodded in resignation. "Okay, I'll try . . . ." Minutes passed that felt like hours. Kat stretched, realizing how bone-tired she was. She waited with heavy eyes. Finally his eyes popped open. "I did it! I think." 

"What is she thinking about now?" 

"Something about homework and her mother. She thinks she was rude to not say hello to her mother." 

"Try to make her think about what happened." 

He closed his eyes again. "I can't." 

She smiled. "Than it worked. Congratulations Xander Harris. Thanks to you, we will be able to ensure that the _**raseri av fortid**_ is never cast again. Unless they find the spell somewhere we didn't look, of course." 

He made a face. "Of course." He held a hand up to his head. "Ohhh, I've got a headache THIS BIG." He held his hands three feet apart. "And Excedrin ain't gonna do the job. You wouldn't have any morphine laying around would you?" 

Kat shook her head. "Sorry. The headaches will go away as you get better controlled." 

Xander nodded, then looked at her. "Kat . . how come I haven't been hearing what you're thinking? I wasn't really thinking about blocking you." 

She smiled. "Mind-readers were more common in my time. Aggie taught me to shield my thoughts from all but the most skilled." 

His expression took on a decidedly evil tint. "Soooo . . . I could get around that if I wanted to, right?" 

She gave him a sour look. "In time, yes. You could." 

He grinned. "And I can hear everyone else now, right?" At her nod he rubbed his hand together and appeared to be planning things that were not altogether wholesome. 

She laughed at him, surprising him. He looked at her questioningly. "You look like Mr. Burns, plotting some evil scheme." At his blank look her grin widened. "You know. 'The Simpsons'? Mr. Burns? Evil leader of the local nuclear plant? Can never remember Homer's name? Any of this ringing a bell?" 

He nodded. "Yes. I know very well what you're talking about, Ms. 'I sleep for fifty years at a time and have never seen 'Star Wars'.' How come you know what 'The Simpsons' are?" 

She laughed again. "My tutor was a fan." 

He shook his head. "Comic books and 'The Simpsons'. I would have gotten along disturbingly well with your vampire tutor. He winced and clutched his head again. "Okay, bedtime for Xander. Why don't you stay in the guest bedroom? Bathroom's down the hall if you need to take a shower or ah, anything." 

Kat smiled. "Thanks. You have an alarm or something in case we oversleep? I feel like I could sleep for . . . well fifty years." 

He groaned at the joke. "I'll wake you up if you're still sleeping. I have an alarm." He hesitated, unsure of what to say. "Goodnight Kat . . . and thank you." 

She smiled. "You're welcome. And thank you." She gave him a significant glance whose meaning was not lost on him. She knew he had not entirely forgiven her, but she appreciated the gestures he was making. She walked away toward the guest room. 

He turned toward his own room than stopped. He went into the kitchen and pulled out the phone book he kept beneath the counter. He thumbed through it quickly until he found what he was looking for. He dialed the number and waited as a perky receptionist answered. "Gardener's Heaven Flowers and Plants, this is Irene, how may I help you?" 

"Hi Irene, I'd like to order some flowers . . . . the kind you plant in the ground. Seedlings. That's what they're called right? Not the ones you put in the vase. Do you carry those?" 

"Yes sir. We do. What types are you looking for?" 

Xander gave the phone a look of absolute blankness. "Umm . . . . pretty ones? I need them for a friend to plant on a grave. What do you think would be suitable?" He held a brief conversation with the receptionist and then gave her his credit card number and, after a brief moment of focusing on the woman and extracting her address, where the flowers were to be delivered. 

"Would you like a card sir?" 

He thought a moment. "Yes. Just say umm . . . . 'From a friend. Thanks for all your help.' You won't release who paid for these will you?" 

"No sir, not if you don't want us to." 

He sighed in relief. "No, I don't. Thank you Irene." 

"Thank you Mr. Harris. Please shop with us again." 

"I'll do that." He hung up the phone and then walked into his room. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed with a relieved sigh on his bed, still fully dressed. Within a minute, he was deeply asleep. 

From her place in the back of the hallway, Kat smiled fondly. She turned and shut the door to the guest room with a soft click before she took sank onto the bed and into sleep.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************   
  


A look of sharp disgust crossed his face as he gazed in firm dislike around the dark crypt. "You actually live here? You traveled the world for how many years with Darla, Dru and I, you tasted the lap of luxury and decadence . . . and you live in a dark dank crypt. Did that chip damage more than just your hunting instinct Spike?" 

The blonde vampire flung himself onto his small couch, flipping on the TV with the remote control he dug out from between the cushions. "Sorry I don't have a bleeding hotel to offer you mate. Some of us make do with what we have. I am after all, in dear old Sunnydale. There are limited options." He feigned a look of tearful sadness. "I just couldn't bring myself to go back to your mansion or the factory. Such poignant family memories after all." 

Angel glared. "I don't know what possessed me to agree to stay here." 

"Lack of options? A burning desire to renew old family ties?" 

He ignored Spike's interjections and made his way over to the bed. "Just do us both a favor and shut up Spike, before I stake you. I just want to sleep." 

"I'm trembling mate. But if you want to sleep I suggest you do it elsewhere. I'm bloody well not sharing that bed with you and I'll be damned if I cramp myself onto this tiny couch." He flipped the TV off and stalked over to the bed. He threw a pillow at Angel. "There. Go fetch. Sweet dreams." 

Angel reflexively caught the pillow and resisted the childish urge to chuck it back at him. A stray image of a full blown pillow fight, complete with flying feathers and game faced vampires briefly struck him. He bit back a smile and made his way to the sofa, knowing damn well that he wouldn't be able to trust Spike enough to sleep with him around. Spike should feel the same way about him. But Spike always had been a little too trusting. He didn't know why he'd agreed to come here. Some strange idea of warning Spike away from Buffy perhaps. Buffy could take care of herself, and any warning he gave Spike would only serve to heighten the other vampire's interest in Buffy. He'd known Spike long enough to know that to him, forbidden fruit was always the sweetest. And the harder it was to climb the tree to steal it, the more he wanted it. He stared at Spike, a feeling of intense loathing rocking him. He hated the way he looked at Buffy, hated the knowing smirk when she wasn't looking. Hated the vague feeling of ownership the vampire projected whenever he was with her. He hated more than anything the fact that if he staked Spike, Buffy would be furious. He growled faintly and lowered himself onto the couch, twisting his tall body to fit in as comfortable a position as possible. 

Spike glanced up from his position on the bed. "If that was your stomach there's blood in the fridge. You can't have it though. Just thought I'd tell you it's there." 

Angel grunted in response. 

Spike rolled onto his side, contemplating his grandsire's prone form. He spoke after a moment, knowing the topic was bound to elicit a less than pleasant response. "Say Angel . . . what did you say to Kat?" 

He didn't even look over, though he went tense and clenched his fists. "None of your business." 

"Fine. Play the stoic vampire hero, all holier than though and shaking finger. I just thought you might like to know where I found her." 

"I know where you found her." 

"Okay, then HOW I found her." 

"I know that too. Leave me alone Spike. Just shut up." 

"You know? You know she was about to fling herself on a stake or some other grand gesture of self-annihilation" Spike's face hardened as he took Angel's silence to mean that he HAD known. "You knew what she was going to do? Because of you? And you didn't do a thing. What the hell did you say to her? You honestly think she deserved you telling her off, you bloody selfish wanker? So busy riding your high horse you don't notice the bodies you trample on the way, do you?" 

Angel leapt off of the sofa and crossed the room in two steps. He gripped Spike around the neck and pushed him hard against the headboard. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. Twilight had her own reasons for what she wanted to do. It had nothing to do with me. And what I said to her I had every right to say. And YOU Spike. You only care because you think caring might get you somewhere with Buffy." His face twisted into a cruel grin. "And you and I both no that no matter how hard you bang your head against that door, Buffy's never going to open it up for you. It must KILL you that she gave me a key." He released Spike, letting him slump onto the bed, his hands massaging his bruised neck. 

Spike looked up at him with utterly emotionless eyes, his face like an alabaster statue, expressionless and unreadable. "Maybe it does mate. But for someone with a soul, you don't know much about being a friend. I may still be the merciless killer, pending chip removal, of course, and you may the soulful redeeming champion, but I would never turn my back on Kat. And she never would have turned hers on you." He spat at Angel's feet. "You don't deserve either of them, as friends or anything else. You're running around LA all 'avenging hero' and 'champion of goodness' but when someone asks you to forgive them, someone who bloody well helped save your life when you were desperate and clueless about what to do about your unfortunate newly souled state, you condemn them, and turn your back as they walk away to kill themselves." He yanked away from Angel, settling back into the bed with a show of nonchalance. "You're an ass Angel. If I didn't already hate you, I'd hate you now. As it is I'll just have to let my hatred sink to new and interesting levels." 

Angel walked away, his voice tinged with disgust. "And I'm so wounded by your dislike Spike. Cut to the bone." 

"Go to sleep Soul-boy. I'm tired of hearing you talk." 

"Likewise." Silence filled the crypt and Spike drifted off into a semblance of sleep. Angel lay wide-eyed and awake, every now and again his eyes traveled to the sleeping form of his grandchilde, and he considered what Spike had said. Part of him automatically rejected every word on the basis that it's speaker was Spike, but the other part, the part he was working to ignore, wondered if maybe some of what he'd said was right. Angel felt doubts twisting his insides apart, and knew that sleep would not even be an option tonight.   
  
  
  


**************************************************************************** 

  
  


"So this . . . demon guy died and gave you this vision thing?" Buffy wrinkled her nose in confusion as she sat cross-legged on her bed, Cordelia perched opposite her in an overstuffed chair at the bed's foot. 

"Half-demon. And I didn't even KNOW that 'till right before . . . it happened. He was a nice guy." Cordelia's face fell into an expression of sadness Buffy had rarely seen on the face of the formerly vacuous beauty queen. 

"You still miss him?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Cordelia answered anyway. 

"Yes. Wesley and I are good friends, and Gunn's . . . well . . . Gunn. But none of them are Doyle. I just wish I'd been a little more clued in to what a good guy he was before he decided to kill himself playing the noble hero, you know?" 

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry Cordy." Buffy sank back against the pillows piled on her headboard. "So what do your visions feel like? And what do you usually see?" 

"They feel sort of like a flash of lightning sent directly into your skull, only way more painful. And what I see is never the same, usually a jumble of images. The . . feeling I get as I watch is usually the more coherent part. The images are too tangled and quick to sort through, but I usually get flashes of intuition about where and when and what things are. Sometimes they're harder to figure out than others times. Half the time we only figure out what they really mean way after the crisis is over." 

"Must have been a hard thing to suddenly deal with, suddenly being an actress with a direct linkup to the powers that be." 

"Probably not as hard as suddenly becoming a vampire slayer at fifteen." Cordy paused and reflected a moment. "Hey, we're bonding here!" 

Buffy grinned. "Yup, look at us with the girl-talk and bonding over Oreos." She popped a cookie into her mouth. 

Cordy took a cookie as well and stared thoughtfully at it. "So . . . you're doing okay right?" 

Buffy looked up, cookie crumbs falling from her fingers. She swiped ineffectively at the bedspread and nodded her head. "I'm fine. Five by Five and all." Her voice fell and her smile widened in an unmistakable, though woefully inaccurate, impression of Faith. 

Cordy started. "Don't do that!" She laughed then. "She's doing better ,though, Angel says. Think you'll ever forgive her?" 

Buffy considered. "Yes. I think so. Faith never had it easy, and everyone makes mistakes. I don't know how long it will be before I'm ready to trust her again- it may be never. But I think I've already forgiven her." 

Cordy climbed to her feet. "Well, you're a bigger woman than me." At Buffy's raised eyebrow she grinned and added. "Figuratively speaking, of course. It will take me a long time to forgive her. And I won't EVER trust her." She yawned and said goodnight to Buffy, than made her way down the hall to the guest bedroom. She fell quickly and deeply asleep. 

Buffy lay for a long time, her tired body and over-active mind having a silent war over whether to think or sleep. When at last her body won out, she sank into a deep and dreamless sleep and was more than grateful for the release from her minds constant thoughts.   
  


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"Willow, come to bed. Otherwise you're going to be too tired to be of any use to anyone tomorrow." Tara watched in frustration as the red-haired girl rustled endlessly through tomes thicker than her waist, looking for something she would never find. "Willow . . . you're not going to find anything in there to make Buffy human again." 

Willow looked at Tara, her tired eyes flashing with brief anger. "How do you know? With all these horrible things that we've seen happen, don't you think it's the tiniest bit possible that we could find this one good thing?" 

Tara shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "Willow . . . I can't know that for sure I guess. But I kn-know that even if you found it, she might not want to use it." 

Willow slumped into her chair, her voice was quiet and muffled as she spoke. "I know. It's just so unfair." 

Tara wrapped her arms around Willow as the other girl pushed listlessly at the books. "No. It's no-not fair. It never is. But may-maybe things had to happen this way. Maybe this is the way it's supposed to be." 

Willow tilted her head, a ghost of smile playing about her lips. "The way it's supposed to be is rotten then." 

Tara smiled back. "Yeah, it is. Remind me to run things differently when I have my own universe." She leaned forward and read through a page Willow had marked. Her eyebrows shot up and her voice filled with genuine laughter. "Willow!! You weren't even trying to find a spell for Buffy!" 

Willow stammered as she spoke in her own defense. "Ye-yes I was! I mean, not right then. I sorta, got sidetracked onto a different topic. But I was looking for a spell for Buffy, and I was about to start looking again when you told me to go to bed." 

Tara yanked the book away. "Here I was offering all this sympathy and you were busy looking up spells to block your thoughts from Xander!!" Her voice fell into a deeper tone of mock-seriousness. "Willow, I'm so disappointed in you." 

Willow tried without success to stifle a laugh. She reached up and yanked her book back from Tara. "Oh be quiet. It's Xander . . . . you know what he's like with the inappropriate comments and all. And I keep thinking all the things I don't wanna be thinking . . . it's not good. So I thought I'd get a little magical assistance." She glared jokingly at the other girl. "Oh just go to bed. Otherwise I won't let you see the spell and you'll have to have a Xander crawling around in your head all the time." 

Tara laughed and lay down on the bed, Willow following her after she'd turned out the reading lights. She put her arms out and pulled the red headed girl next to her, resting her head on Willow's shoulder. "I wouldn't get your heart set on that spell working. Xander's pretty powerful if he can even read a vampire's mind. You might not be able to keep him out with a little chanting." 

Willow smiled and turned and kissed Tara goodnight. "I know. But it's worth a try. Otherwise poor Xander's head might explode." 

Tara laughed again and they both settled down to sleep, a small bundle of black fur climbing up onto the bed to settle itself in a purring ball against Willow's stomach. Carefully pushing away thoughts of what might soon come, they fell asleep.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************   
  


"Can I get you anything sir? A beverage or pillow? Some head phones?" The perky flight attendant smiled too widely, revealing overlarge gums and imperfectly capped teeth. 

The passenger lifted one hand in a wave of rejection, ignoring the way the woman's eyes immediately went to the plastic fingers of his missing hand. "No thank you. How long until we land?" 

The woman smiled again. "We'll be touching down in Sunnydale Airport in less than an hour sir." He thanked her again and then waited till the woman had made her way further down the aisle. He reached down and pulled his large briefcase onto the small table in front of him. Checking to be sure the man next to him was truly asleep, Lindsey opened the case and looked again at the smiling faces of the two people within. He read through the files for the hundredth time, his gaze thoughtful and his forehead wrinkled in tension. He shut the case again and sat back with a sigh. He reached down and pushed his chair into a reclining position, closing his eyes. In a moment, he had dozed off into a void of vivid dreams.   
  


____________________________________________________________________________ 


	15. Turncoat

Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who've been patient and stayed with the story. Thanks also to those of you who have NOT been patient and have been e-mailing me demanding to know where the next part was. Those e-mails were a great way for me to keep myself motivated. This part was VERY difficult for me to write. It came in short bits and pieces and STILL seems to read a bit awkward for me. I'm posting it anyway, but be warned, I may go back and tinker with it a few times until I'm satisfied with it. Thanks again to all my lovely readers and reviewers, and to my long-suffering Beta reader Laura, who reads through it before it's made readable for the rest of you. We're getting close to the wire people. Three more parts I think to finish it off. I hope you guys enjoy. Thanks again!! Part Fifteen is already finished and being edited and tinkered with, so there won't be long before the net part, and Sixteen is well-started. I apologize again for the exceedingly long time this part took to come out. It was a stubborn bitch to write. :) Reviews and e-mails are, as always, welcome and much appreciated!   
  


### **Part Fourteen**

### **Turncoat**

###### "He who chooses the beginning of a road chooses the place it leads to. It is the means that determine the end." 

###### -- Harry Emerson Fosdick

  
  
  
  


Giles stared aghast at the pile of luggage sitting with palpable menace in the center of his living room, as if daring him to try and stuff it all into the trunk of his stylish, horribly impractical car. He looked from the pile to the women who'd brought it. "Willow, Tara, are you planning on MOVING there? We're traveling to LA to avert an apocalypse and confront an unspeakably evil law firm, not walk the bloody catwalk in a fashion show of clothes we brought from home!" He studiously ignored the smaller pile of luggage that already waited by the door, the largest of which was missing a handle because it had broken off when he made the error of trying to lift the immeasurably heavy bag. 

Willow smiled. "You bring every book in the house and a change of underwear. We bring every spell component we own, and eight pairs of sensible shoes." 

Tara grinned. "Guess we just have different priorities Mr. Giles." 

He sighed. "Fine. We'll bring the three incredibly large suitcases the two of you brought, and then you can ride on the roof while the bags sit comfortably in the backseat." 

Willow's face suddenly lit with an excited glow that immediately filled Giles with dread. "Oh! We've been working on this levitation spell and flying ourselves around our room. Granted, it's a lot further to LA, but I bet we could do it if we stopped for bathroom breaks, and no airline food or cramped car to get there!" 

"Willow, you may NOT fly there. Besides the obvious danger of it, I don't fancy reading about the flying red-head who stopped on I-4 to ask for directions in tomorrow's morning paper." 

Willow grumbled something about using a map, which Giles purposefully ignored. Tara smiled behind a hand she lifted to hide a feigned yawn. The girls hefted their bags and went to load them, somehow, into Giles' car. "Maybe we could use Angel's car too. And doesn't Spike have one hidden away somewhere? Or did he pawn it for blood?" 

Giles sighed and turned to Wesley. But whatever he had been about to say to the other man, who was smirking over the conversation he'd just heard, was forgotten as the door flew open and two smoking vampires flung themselves inside. One cursed loudly, the other merely scowled as he shook out the blanket he'd held over his head until the flames were doused. Giles surveyed the two with a critical gaze, looking for the bruises he was sure would be there after these two were forced to share lodgings. Finding none, he cleared his throat and walked over to them. "Good morning. I trust you found Spike's accommodation dank and unspeakably unpleasant." 

"I resent that Watcher, I do. It's not like you're crashing in a five-star hotel here. Besides my place has . . ." He hesitated, searching for the correct word. "Atmosphere." 

Angel glared at him. "Otherwise known as stench and dampness." 

"Only for those who think inside the box. Us free-thinkers like a bit more creativity in our housing than a bloody great mansion with two chairs and a bed for furnishings." Spike lit a cigarette and leaned back against the wall. "Besides, good apartments are hard to come by these days. They're all a bit sunny for my tastes." 

"Not to mention most of them require rent of some kind." 

Spike shot Giles a quick glare for that crack. "That's beside the point." 

Wesley smiled. "Yes, I'm sure it is, but ALL of this is beside the point. Buffy called and is on her way with Cordelia. We've not heard from Xander and Kat yet, have either of you?" 

Spike shook his head. "No, not a word. Saw the Witchy duet outside shoving suitcases into your car, though. Left a nasty dent in one side when that big blue one banged into the side." 

Giles started. "They dented it?" 

Wesley ignored him. "Perhaps one of us should go and check on them." 

Giles looked over from the window, where he'd hurried over to peer out at Willow and Tara and his car. "No need yet. I imagine they'll be here any moment." He turned and walked away from the window. "I'd rather not see what they're doing. I turned away when I saw a suitcase floating." A crash sounded from outside followed by a stream of feminine giggles. Giles sighed and faced resolutely away from the window. 

Wesley frowned at the other man. "Rupert, I wasn't sure it was a wise idea to allow Xander to go alone with that vam- ahem- woman last night. And now I feel we should go and ensure that he's safe and that she is . . . still with us." 

Giles made a rude snorting noise. "If you were so certain it was a bad idea, why didn't you mention it last night?" 

Wesley flushed. "Well . . . I was a bit overtired and I confess I wasn't at my best-" 

A knock at the door saved him from further explanation. Giles frowned and made his way to the door. "This must be Katerina. None of the rest of them bothers to knock anymore." He swung the door open and blinked in surprise at the stranger standing there. "Yes, can I help you?" Suddenly a blur of black leather shoved him roughly aside and grabbed his visitor violently by the neck. 

Angel yanked the figure inside and shoved it harshly against the wall, his furious expression and fierce eyes seeming almost on the verge of changing into his vampire face. The man he held pinned against the wall struggled uselessly against the vampire's strength, his breath coming in short gasps through Angel's stranglehold on his throat. Angel's voice was a low growling rumble when he spoke. "What are you doing here Lindsey? Wolfram & Hart making house calls for those special clients now? You're not a fast learner are you?" His free hand yanked at Lindsey's plastic hand, pulling it off and waving it tauntingly in his face. "Didn't I take enough from you the last time we had a tete-a-tete?" He hurled the hand against the adjacent wall, shattering the sturdy plastic as if it were glass. 

Giles started when he heard the name of the law firm he'd heard so much about in such a short time. He paled as he saw Angel's nearly overwhelming fury. In that moment, he saw the line between Angel and Angelus grow thin. He shot a look at Wesley, who was looking back at him with raised eyebrows. They traded a look of concern quickly, then Giles looked back to where Angel taunted the man. As Angel flung something across the room, Giles opened his mouth to speak when a voice from the doorway spoke for him. 

"Angel." At the sound of his name Angel instantly released the man, his body nearly shaking with tension. He watched as Lindsey fell to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath. Angel turned to the doorway. Buffy stared back at him, her gaze inscrutable. Cordy stood at her side, Willow and Tara peering over their shoulders. Cordy's expression was a priceless mix of resentment and incredulity. One word from Buffy and Angel had let Lindsey go. Cordy seemed to know that she could have wasted breath screaming at him for hours and he'd still have done what he liked. 

Lindsey pushed himself to his feet and raked his hair out of his eyes. He glanced around the room, his eyes filled with hate when they fell on Angel. He cleared his throat, testing to see if he'd be able to speak. Buffy stepped forward and he eyed her warily, knowing who she was. Wolfram & Heart's files were extensive and the exploits of the slayers very well documented, this one in particular. She pushed her way in front of Angel and put a threatening hand on a knife she had shoved through her belt. "Who are you?" 

To his immense irritation the question was answered before he could speak. "His name is Lindsey Macdonald, and he's one of the Wolfram & Heart's little thugs. He helps do all their dirty work for them. He's a bad nasty person." Cordelia halted a moment, studying Angel speculatively before finishing. "He helped bring Darla back . . and then he brought Drusilla to make her a vampire. Not that pinning him to the wall by his throat should have been your first course of action." The last was directed at Angel, who gave no sign of having heard her. 

Buffy's voice was level. "Do you know who I am?" 

Lindsey nodded imperceptibly. "Yes." 

Her voice was cold. "Then you know what I'm capable and more than willing to do to you if you do anything I'm not happy about." Giles looked at her, surprised at the threat, as did the rest of them save Willow. She seemed to expect it. After a minute Giles realized why. Angel. This man had threatened not only Angel's life, but also his soul and sanity, from what Cordelia and Wesley had told them. Buffy was always incredibly protective of people she loved. 

Lindsey smiled sardonically. "Aren't the good guys supposed to wait to offer threats until after introductions have been made?" 

Buffy smiled back mirthlessly. "We're a little behind on our etiquette here in little old Sunnydale." The smile vanished and she stepped closer to him. "What are you doing here? And how did you know where we were?" 

Lindsey's bitter grin grew. "Let's just say I have friends in high places . . . and in low ones. As for why I'm here . . ." He tossed a file no one had noticed he carried in his hand toward Buffy. The girl caught it reflexively. 

She held it unopened. "What is it?" 

"What, you're a little behind on your reading skills in little old Sunnydale, too?" 

Buffy brought her leg forward in a flash of movement and swept his feet out from beneath him smoothly. He toppled to the floor with a grunt. She smiled nastily. "Yeah, but our ass-kicking skills are top of the line." She flipped open the folder and studied it. Her eyes widened and her knuckles whitened as she read. She slammed it shut and handed it, almost reluctantly to Giles. As the Watcher began to page through and read she looked back at the man who'd brought it. He flinched involuntarily away from her, feeling the waves of anger coming from her. "Is it true?" 

He nodded. "Every word of it." 

"Why are you here?" 

He shrugged as if the answer surprised even him. "Because I want to stop them from doing it." 

Angel looked up at Buffy, his anger burning anew. "Buffy, he can't be trusted. I've seen him play the good guy before. It doesn't last." He scowled at Lindsey. "He'll sell anyone out for the almighty dollar. This is just a game Wolfram & Hart is playing at." 

Lindsey shook his head angrily. "Wolfram & Hart would kill me in numerous and painful ways if they knew I was here." He shuddered slightly. "And they know how to make death last for years." 

Buffy held a hand up and gave her one-time lover a commanding glare. "Angel, be quiet." The vampire looked surprised, hurt, and resentful all at once, but he obeyed, biting his tongue and staring in sullen silence at Lindsey. Buffy turned her attention back to the lawyer. "Now explain to me why you would want to do something like that? 'Cause from what I've heard about you, you're not really a pitch in and help the good guys kinda fella. You're more of a 'wait till the good guys turn their back and then stab them and serve them a subpoena' type. So why the sudden change of heart?" 

Lindsey glanced quickly around, his crooked smile fading momentarily. "Let's just say I had a difference of opinion with the firm." 

Buffy glared. "And we're supposed to buy everything you say to us based on that? Sorry Mr. Big-Shot lawyer, I'm not feeling gullible or trusting today. Not really open to the idea of another new formerly evil friend, either. So why don't you tell me the real reason you're here." 

He shook his head. "It's enough that I'm here. Believe me or don't believe me, I'm telling the truth." Buffy's expression showed her doubt. 

Willow watched quietly from her place behind Buffy. She turned her head as a shadow approached the door and smiled. "Xander's here. Kat's with him." Her eyes turned to Giles and the folder he still flipped through. Curiosity about what it contained was driving her batty. She finally gave in and started over to Giles, determined to read over his shoulder. Cordelia was at her heels, obviously entertaining the same idea. Giles hurriedly closed it as they approached, though. He cleared his throat and glanced nervously at them. Willow frowned, now certain that he was hiding it from her, or them. She stopped in mid-thought and spun back around to face the doorway, her expression brightening as if someone had flipped a switch and flooded her face with light. Xander now stood in the door way, Kat beside him, her diminutive form barely reaching his chest. Willow spoke quickly. "Oh! Xander can tell us what Lindsey's th-umm . . ." She cleared her through, it suddenly occurring to her that Lindsey might not know of Xander's newfound talent. "Lindsey's shoe size." She finished lamely. 

Xander smiled faintly and turned to face the newcomer to their circle. His face looked a bit pale and haggard, his cheerful expression a bit haunted. Willow watched him sympathetically. It must be hard hearing what people are thinking, she didn't even like to hear what SHE was thinking sometimes. She wondered briefly if he'd heard that. He sent her a tired smile and a nod. 

Kat watched the exchange and frowned. "Focus Xander. Weed it out." He made a face behind her back when she returned her attention to the lawyer. Willow grinned and gave the vampire woman bunny ears from safely behind her back. Kat ignored both of them, though a slight smile played around the corners of her mouth. She watched Lindsey, who looked back at her warily. She saw recognition in his eyes, though she had never seen him before. When she spoke it seemed to almost startle him. "Who are you?" 

"His name is Lindsey Macdonald. He works for Wolfram &-" 

Kat cut Angel off with a look and a frown. "I asked him, not you Angelus." He scowled and turned away from her. She looked back at the man. "Now you speak. Who are you and why are you here?" 

He licked his lips nervously, wondering what she wanted of him. Regretful thoughts flickered through his mind. He'd thrown a career away to help people who loathed him. He'd thrown more than that away if he was truthful with himself, he'd thrown his life away. Wolfram & Hart wouldn't let him survive long after this betrayal. He'd used up his get out of jail free cards, and the firm would be around to punish him for his indiscretions. He wasn't sure what to say. 

"Oh just tell the truth. You're a big wussy man who's afraid of the big law firm, but wants to stop them from killing some poor kids . . . . hey!!!" Xander's eyebrows shot up so far they looked ready to fly off his head. "Me! You want to stop them from killing me and Cor-" His voice trailed off and he glanced apologetically at Giles, who was shooting him a killing look. Cordelia's face was suddenly furious as she snatched the file away from the former watcher and began to read. Xander shrugged as Kat turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry . . . . no, I'm not. Seemed the appropriate thing to say." 

Kat ignored him and watched Lindsey instead, who had gone pale at Xander's pronouncement. "Well, I guess the 'who you are' and 'why you ares' been answered. Now all that remains is the other why. Why do you care about two little deaths when Angel . . . and several other sources I've spoken with in the past, have assured me that Wolfram & Hart thinks nothing of a little murder?" 

Lindsey sighed heavily. "Because those two murders are part of a chain of events Wolfram & Heart's been planning for some time. Holland Manners' little pet project actually." 

She tilted her head. "Holland Manners?" 

"My supervisor, head of special projects for Wolfram & Hart." She nodded in understanding and motioned for him to go on. Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she shot a look at Spike, who smiled back, knowing what she was thinking. She frowned and stepped away from Lindsey, pulling Buffy forward. Buffy gave her a confused glance, Kat smiled and looked purposefully obtuse. Lindsey continued his story, oblivious to the power plays going on within the group. "Not long ago, Holland decided to bring me in to help with this . . . project of his. To get approval for me to work on the case, I had to be approved by the Senior Partners. He took me to meet them and-" 

"You met the Senior Partners? What were they like? I bet they were all scaly and smelly and slimy right?" Cordelia, face pale, looked up long enough from the file she held to interrupt. 

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Cordelia please. We ARE trying to find out some information. . . . So what DID the Senior Partners look like?" Cordy groaned and several sighs sounded from different points around the room. 

Lindsey shook his head. "I never met them. I met their representatives, who were human. They gave me that folder, and told me to gain the firm's trust back, I had to take care of . . . the assignment they gave me. If I did, I would take Holland's place when he was promoted, pending the success of his project of course." 

Buffy glanced around and saw that everyone else had found chairs to sit in. She decided to do the same, roughly pushing Lindsey down into a chair at the book-strewn table and taking one opposite him. Kat settled onto a stool behind her. "So what is this project exactly?" 

Angel sneered. "Let me guess, the end of the world, right?" 

Lindsey laughed bitterly. "No. They've been there, tried that. Didn't work. No this isn't the end of the world. It's a change in the world as we know it." He leaned forward for emphasis, his gaze moving from person to person around the room. "Wolfram & Hart is going to shift the Balance." He seemed disappointed in the general lack of reaction and puzzlement he met in most faces. Only the two slayers and one of the Watchers seemed to understand what he was saying. 

Buffy leaned toward him, bringing his attention back to her. For the first time he noticed her silver eyes, twin to those of the other slayer, Twilight. He suppressed a shiver at the inhuman gleam of the woman's gaze. "Okay, gonna need a little more explanation here." 

"I don't understand it fully myself. All I know is Wolfram & Hart have a very elaborate plan. They have a former member of the Watcher's Council working for them. The Council and us have always been at odds. They have a great deal of influence, and frequently ruin the firm's plans. They used this insider to plant a second half of a spell called the _**raseri av fortid**_. The spell was a fake, but they made sure that information about its 'recovery' and the Council's plans to cast it on The Slayer were relayed to the only ones who would know what it was." He glanced toward Kat and Angel. "The Council's spell was just a feint, designed to drawn the attention of our most potent enemies . . . you all. At the least, you would all be distracted and chasing after rumors. At the best, you would destroy or at least severely limit the power of the Council in retribution for what they attempted to do. Either way, you would be too busy worrying about demons from overseas to pay much attention to what's going on here." 

Kat nodded and opened her mouth to speak but abruptly closed it. She was not going to be the one in charge here. It was no longer her duty. She was here to help the slayer, not take her place. Buffy spoke, unaware of Kat's struggles with her own inner control issues. "And what IS it they plan on having 'going on' here?" 

"I don't know exactly. I know there's a ritual that has to be performed around the new moon. I know that everyone, myself included, have been ordered NOT to kill the slayers . . . or Angel. And I know that they sent me here to kill . . . or arrange to have killed, which is probably more along the lines of what they expected, two people who never did anything to me. One who reads the future, and one who reads minds." He nodded to Cordelia and Xander in turn. "They want both of you gone, but the main focus is on you." He pointed gestured toward Xander. 

The young man paled slightly, an impressive feat considering how pale he already was with weariness and worry. "Why me?" 

Lindsey raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I don't know. I guess you're important somehow." 

Xander stared at him, clearly trying to glean more from the man's thoughts. Lindsey stared resolutely back. Xander gave up with a sigh, re-shielding his mind. "Lucky me. I think he's telling the truth. He doesn't know much more." 

Wesley's voice sounded from the back of the room. "Does he know who the inside man is at the Council?" 

"An Englishman, goes by the name of Richard Barnington. Might not be his real name though." 

"Bloody hell!" The curse came from two places at the same time. Everyone turned to face the Watchers, surprised by their synchronized shouting. 

"What's wrong . . . . British guys?" Xander searched for a moment for a better title, but settled on the generic one instead. "I'm losing my touch. 'British guys' was the best I could come up with? This is what happens when you can hear too many things at once. You run out of room for storing irrelevant humor." 

Willow smiled and patted him sympathetically on the head like an overlarge puppy. "It's okay Xander. It'll get easier to not hear things, and then you'll have plenty of room for your trademarked Xander quips." He looked doubtful and reached up to remove her patting hand. She smiled again and turned back to Wesley and Giles. "So what WAS that about?" 

Giles merely snorted in disgust, leaving Wesley to explain. "Well . . . you know that old saying about it always being the last person you'd suspect was capable of betrayal like that?" 

Buffy nodded in understanding. "Yeah. So this Richard guy was like a Watcher buddy with you guys? A friend?" 

Giles snorted again and answered before Wesley had a chance to. "Not bloody likely. That old adage is the furthest thing from the truth I've ever heard. If I'd been told to pick out the one man most likely to sell out the world for a chance at power, I'd have pointed a large finger directly at Richard Barnington. And I've had delighted in the opportunity to knock him on his arse, as well."" 

Wesley nodded in agreement. "Richard was mad for power and dabbled even more heavily in the black arts that most Watchers. He's quite a powerful Mage, but he's also very inventive and experimental. He nearly blew up the entire library trying to perfect a spell once. Very few members of the Council got on well with him." 

Xander shook his head in mock regret. "And yet no one saw the encroaching signs of betrayal. Haven't ANY of you people ever been to a movie? It's always that quiet guy with the explosives that wants to kill the world." 

Willow grinned. "See? It's coming back already." 

Kat ignored them all, obviously lost in thought. From their silent perches in the back of the room, Angel and Spike watched and waited. They knew that expression, it was like a slowly brightening light bulb over her head. In silence, they waited for the bulb to flash and Kat to speak. When she did, it was slowly, her face still thoughtful. "How did Wolfram & Hart know that I would be told about the _**raseri av fortid**_?" The question seemed to be a formality, as if she already knew the answer. 

"The vampire who met you when you woke up was a plant by Wolfram & Hart. He was brainwashed by VERY thorough means by associates of the firm. They can't read minds, but they can manipulate them." This news seemed to sadden Kat, who fell once more into a brooding silence. She traded a quick look with Angel, her eyes full of regret, his filled with accusation. The both said they same thing without words. "It wasn't necessary." 

The silence in the room deepened and everyone shifted uncomfortably in it. Finally it was Buffy who spoke, sounding vaguely lost, a tone no one had heard from her since her change. "What do we do now?" She looked toward Kat, who looked away. 

Giles answered her. "I suppose we've no choice but to go to LA and confront Wolfram & Hart in their headquarters. We haven't time before the new moon to make any elaborate plans, this seems to be the only option left." 

No one said anything. They all knew that to wade into the heart of the law firm when they were most likely to be prepared and waiting for them may well be a suicide mission. But Giles was right- they had no choice. A soft voice spoke after a moment, startling them all, some of whom had forgotten her quiet presence. "May-maybe that's what they want us to do." 

Giles cleared his throat. "What do you mean Tara?" 

She continued, gaining confidence as she went, ignoring the suspicious glares she was receiving from the LA part of the group, who had never met her before this current crisis. "Well . . . whatever this ritual is, it obviously requires a lot of power. The new moon is a time of renewal, and is a time of rising power. Many powerful spells and summons have to be performed around it. If it needs the extra power of the moon to boost it, maybe it needs another natural power source too?" 

Willow's eyes lit with understanding. "And what better source of power for a dark ritual than Sunnydale's Hellmouth?" Tara nodded, her expression hopeful. 

Xander shook his head. "Our town's one claim to fame is a tunnel to hell. Remind me to build a giant roadside ice cream cone here later, give the tourists something new to see when the come to visit." 

Kat turned to Buffy. "The Oracles spoke of the Balance . . . . And in her final warning, the female said 'The Balance between worlds must be weighed at the portal that joins them.' Does that mean your Hellmouth?" 

Buffy blinked. "I'd forgotten that until now." 

Kat smiled wanly. "So had I. I only remembered when Tara mentioned the Hellmouth." She gave the witch a grateful smile. 

Tara bowed her head shyly. "So may-maybe this is all just another way to draw us away from where we need to be to stop it?" 

Giles nodded. "It seems so. The new moon begins tonight. It looks like we're off to visit our old stomping grounds again." 

Buffy smiled. "I could really have done without the trip down nostalgia lane, but I'll survive." She turned speculatively to Lindsey. "So Mr. Macdonald, was this just another way for you to help your firm? Draw us away from where we most need to be?" 

Xander stared hard at the lawyer, who seemed to be debating whether or not to reveal something. He started to speak, but was interrupted by the shrill ring of a phone. Giles looked blankly at his phone before realizing that it wasn't what was ringing. Cordelia smiled an apology and lifted her own phone out of her purse as Angel and Wesley each reached into their pockets for theirs. Xander grinned at their matching Nokias. "We've GOT to get us some of those." Buffy nodded in silent agreement. 

Giles sighed. "Have you any idea what those things cost a month Xander? 

"No, but they're shiny and they make pretty noises. Can't we have one? Please?" He grinned to show he was kidding, Giles ignored him and shook his head. 

The ringing continued as the trio from LA looked blankly from one to another. A soft beep and the ringing stopped. Lindsey held a black phone to his ear, his expression uncertain. "Lindsey Macdonald." 

"Lindsey, I'm highly disappointed in you. I had such high hopes for you." The familiar voice on the other end was soft with feigned disappointment. 

Lindsey's stomach sank to his knees and his face turned white. His voice shook as he answered. "Wh-What are you talking about Holland?" 

"Lindsey, I am many things, but I am not a fool. A bit too trusting perhaps, but not a fool. I HAD hoped you would prove more loyal to the people that helped make you what you are." 

Lindsey sneered. "Yeah, well maybe I don't much like what you made me into." 

"Hardly our fault. We did the best we could with the materials we had to work with." 

"Sorry I wasn't up to your standards Holland." He looked up and around the room, who were all staring at him coldly. Finally comprehension dawned and he jumped to his feet. Buffy, startled by his abrupt movement shoved him back into his chair. He fell, sprawling into it, the phone still held to his ear. 

"Goodbye Lindsey." Holland hung up the phone with a soft click and Lindsey hurled it away. He stood again. "We have to go. Now! Get out of here!" 

Buffy climbed to her feet, her face a mix of distrust and worry. "Why?" 

Xander was already pushing people toward the door. "Go! They know we know!" 

Comprehension finally lit the faces of the rest of them. Cordelia's already pale face whitened further. "Wolfram & Hart? But what-how?" 

Lindsey grabbed her by the arm. "They must have this house bugged. I should have KNOWN that. We have to get out. Now!" 

Buffy surged forward and pulled the door open as she spoke. "Angel, Spike, you'd better find something to cover you and quickly." She swung the door open and then leaped back. She shot a quick glance toward Giles. "Too late." She thought hard at Xander, hoping he'd hear the words she didn't say. "Xander. Back door. Willow, Tara, Cordelia, Wesley, Giles and you. Now!" She saw with relief that he glared at her, but began pushing the others toward the door. She spoke to those at the door. "We weren't expecting company, and we don't like solicitors. Why don't you try next door? They love buying door to door." She noted quietly that Kat had stepped forward to stand beside her, Spike and Angel just behind them, out of the sunlight, the lawyer beside them. 

Three cloaked figures stood closest to the door. The one in the center was tall and completely swathed in what looked like thick black saran wrap, flanking that figure were two shorter figures, wearing short, frayed blue robes. From the center of the enveloping hoods stared beady red eyes and claws emerged from the dirty sleeves in place of fingers. Behind the three stood eight men dressed in army fatigues. Confusion filled Buffy's mind as she stared at them. She didn't think she recognized them, but she couldn't be sure. The tall figure raised a slim arm, gloved in the same black material the rest of it wore. It pulled up the hood of its cloak and smiled. Three surprised gasps and two faint curses sounded from those who were within viewing range of the door. Hypnotic dark eyes stared relentlessly into Buffy's and blood red lips stretched into a smile tinged with madness. "Naughty slayer. It's bad manners not to invite a guest inside to play, it is. What would your Mummy say?" 

Buffy stepped out of reach of the door way, her eyes darting from the vampire at the door to Spike and Angel. The blonde vampire looked stunned, but Angel looked furious . . . and guilty. She silently cursed him for not letting her know Dru was back in town long before this. She gave the vampire a bright smile. "Drusilla. I'm so sorry. We don't have room for you at the party. You should have called first. Why don't you go on home, come see us some other time?" 

The vampire girl shook her head. She stared past Buffy into the room, her dark eyes on Spike and Angel. "It's almost a family party. The nasty lawyers wouldn't let me tell Grandmum I was coming." She gave a short little giggle. "She'll be very cross when I come back. The lawyers were afraid she'd be mad at them for hurting you." She directed the last toward Lindsey. Buffy disgustedly noted that he seemed pleased by Dru's announcement. 

Arms crossed over her chest in a deceptively casual pose, Buffy smirked. "Taking your orders from Wolfram & Hart instead of Spike now, huh Drusilla? Whatever happened to liberation? You're just an old-fashioned vampire, aren't you? Need a man . . . . or large evil entity to take care of you?" 

Drusilla hissed in anger. "Nasty little Slayer. Grandmum will be upset she didn't get to see you die and hear all the lovely screams you'll make." She looked past Buffy to Spike. She held her arm out toward him longingly. "My Spike. When the stars told me you'd be here, I went to the lawyers to make it right again." She frowned at him. "Your poor little head, they took the blood from your brain." She smiled. "We can put it back again, make it like it was. All the lovely blood and pretty music." She dropped her hood, her voice muffled from behind its folds. "Do you like my dress My Spike? The sun doesn't burn when I wear it." She giggled again. 

Spike stepped forward as far as he could. He reached forward and roughly yanked Buffy aside. "It's lovely pet." 

She tilted her head, her muffled voice sad. "But you can't come outside because you're not wearing it." 

He smiled. "Well then luv, maybe you should come in. Invite the lady in, Giles." The Watcher had crept around to the other side of the room so he could see what was happening. He looked doubtfully at Buffy. The Slayer gave an imperceptible nod. They both knew that Drusilla was the only thing keeping the rest of them from attacking. As soon as she lost interest in her game, the others would attack. The longer they could placate her, the more chance the rest of them had to get clear. Suddenly she looked around with a mighty frown. The rest of them were STANDING there, looking back at her. OBVIOUSLY none of them had ANY intention of leaving. She vowed to give them a piece of her mind later. How was she supposed to protect Xander and Cordelia when they didn't LISTEN to her? 

Giles cleared his throat. "Of-of course. Drusilla, why don't you come in?" 

Drusilla stepped gracefully inside, into the shadowed entryway. She pushed the hood away from her face and looked around. Her eyes fell on Kat, who had been standing out of her sight. Instantly the vampire's face shifted into its natural fanged state and her eyes lit with fury. Her voice was almost hissing with her anger. "Wretched little sleeping Slayer! It was you who first made my Spike's head fill with thoughts that weren't about me." She stepped closer. "I dreamed of you, bathed in blood and dancing at the mouth of hell. It was evil and lovely and I woke up singing and heard the Earth sing with me." Her face shifted back and her furious eyes flashed. "But it was a lie. You don't dance a'tall. And you're here with my Spike and the Angel-Beast." 

Kat smiled faintly, her voice acidic. "Hello to you too Drusilla. Where's your baby doll? Did she go and find a nice sane mother somewhere?" The two eyed one another with undisguised loathing, each obviously preparing to pounce. 

Spike stepped forward, his voice soothing. "Dru baby, I know you and Katerina never got on well, but you're always my girl." He shot Kat a half annoyed, half amused glance than slid his arms around Drusilla's waist, to the obvious disgust of several people in the room. "Remember that time in France, luv? Remember how we danced then?" 

She giggled. "We danced over pretty girls, who lay on a burning floor and gave us the dancing music with their pleas for mercy and lovely screams." Xander who'd been staring at the mad vampire intently suddenly grimaced and turned slightly green. Kat noticed from the corner of his eye and winced with sympathy. She wouldn't want to hear what Drusilla was thinking either. 

He nodded, his head nestled in her neck. "That's right baby. And it can be that way again." He smiled. "Now tell me, what did the lawyers say about the chip in my head?" 

She frowned and put her hands on his head, wincing. "My poor Spike. A puppy on a tether, running 'round and 'round the same tree and barking at what he can't have." Red lips curved into an edged smile. "But they can fix it. Can turn a switch inside your lovely head and make it all right again. Can give my Spike back his fangs again." She caressed his head lovingly for a moment, than her fingers bent and her hand, scratched a bloody line down the side of his face. "But they can't take The Slayers from your head." She pushed him away and danced backward as Kat turned, a stake in her hand. "Naughty Sleepy-Slayer. You should have stayed in bed and dreamed of parties and puppies and little boys who taste like sunshine. Now it's too late. She pushed her cloak open and grabbed a crossbow at her belt. Spike leapt forward to take it from her, Kat leaping nimbly out of the way and turning to face the stream of men who were running through the door. Buffy stood at her back and the two began wading through a sea of arms and legs, sending men flying from around them. Together they made their way to the door, where the other two creatures stood with their hands clasped before them. Their hissing inhumane voices were chanting something neither of them understood but they moved in unison and tackled the two as one. The creatures howled in frustration as their spell was interrupted and their hoods fell away, revealing scaled domed heads bulging with hideous purple veins. The Slayers attacked, the small creatures fought like, well, demons. Incredibly strong for their size and damnably fast, their claws glinted in the sun and their fanged mouths dripped something that looked disturbingly poisonous. Grimly, they battled on as the house inside turned to sheer chaos. 

The creature fighting Kat knocked her briefly backwards. It was breathing hard and bleeding from a gash in its arm. It seemed to know it was on the losing end of the battle. Quickly it reached into its cloak and pulled a handful of dark powder out. He flung it at Kat, who dodged alertly. The scaly thing murmured a sibilant syllable and the black powder gathered into a spinning funnel and lashed at Kat's face. She raised her hand but cried out as it struck her eyes with a flash of dull light. The funnel dissipated and the creature, making an odd keening sound that seemed like a laugh jumped forward, a long wicked knife in its hand. Kat heard him and danced away, turning her head blindly, her closed eyelids crisscrossed with bleeding scratches. Kat made a quick kick at him but missed. He lunged again and she managed to avoid it by jumping back. She moved toward him again but her feet hit something on the ground and she tripped. She tried to roll as she landed but was only half-successful and she was slow to regain her feet. The little thing chittered again in excitement as it managed to thrust its knife deep into the Slayer's belly. She hissed and grunted in pain but lashed out with the stake she still held. It screamed in pain as she felt the stake bite into flesh. She heard it thud as it hit the ground and kicked at it, feeling the solid feel of a body against her foot, clawed hands closed around her foot and fangs sank keep into her leg. She gave a small cry and tried to kick it off with no success. She thrust at it again with the stake but it kept avoiding her thrusts. After a moment the creature seemed to realize that its poison would have no more effect on her than its knife had. It let go and ran backwards with a limping gate she could barely hear. It began to speak again in that strange language. She tried to attack, but it avoided her sightless eyes. 

A new sound came from behind her. The thud of flesh meeting flesh she'd heard the whole time as Buffy attacked the other creature, now it abruptly ended with a high pitched scream from the second demon. Kat heard her light step approaching from the demon's other side. It heard as well and stepped up the speed of its chant. Abruptly a different chant was heard. Two feminine voices chanting quickly and melodically in a language Kat would have recognized, had she taken the time to think about it. The two voices rose in pitch and then shouted out a final phrase and Kat felt a rush of air and heard a crack of lightning. The chanting stopped and another scream sounded. An aroma that smelled like roasted snake, something Kat had eaten more times than she cared to remember in her human days, filled the air and the house was still. She heard Buffy come to stand beside her and felt the other girl's hand land lightly on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" 

Kat nodded. "I'll be alright. A vampire's constitution has its upsides. Those were some tough little lizards." 

Buffy nodded in agreement, than blushed as she realized the other girl couldn't see her. "They didn't exactly roll over and beg to be killed. I imagine it would have been easier if you could see them though." 

Kat smiled. "Probably. She turned her head toward the door where she'd heard the girls chanting. "Thank you." 

Willow and Tara smiled in unison. "You're welcome." Willow abruptly remembered. "Oops, more bad guys inside." She and Tara turned back into the house, Buffy running after and Kat following, her steps slow and hands outstretched to find her way.   
  
  
  


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Spike's leap had been halted in midair as Drusilla turned and hurled him backwards with a surge of furious strength. She aimed again at Kat's back as the Slayer made her way to the door with Buffy. Her eyes narrowed and she began to pull the trigger. A scream of frustration split her suddenly fanged mouth as her arm was flung aside by a tall military man. He growled at her. "Bitch! You're not supposed to kill the Slayers or the vampire. Remember? If they die, we don't get paid!" Dru growled and her body coiled to spring. Fear lit the man's eyes and he hurriedly raised his small stun gun, knowing his larger gun would be useless against her. He raised it toward her when two hands closed around his head. They twisted hard and the man slumped to the ground, the life fading from his eyes. 

Spike's hands flew to his head, his face tensing as he waited for the pain. It never came. After a minute his face spread into a grim smile. Spike smiled evilly at the corpse. "Sorry Mate. No one calls my Dru a bitch but me." He looked quickly about to see if anyone had seen. They hadn't. 

Drusilla stared at him, her voice breathy and tremulous. "My Spike." She smiled and giggled, the effect hideous in her vampire form. "They turned off the 'lectric fence, and now the dogs can chase the cows once more." She giggled again. "Naughty lawyers." 

He looked at her. "I've missed you baby." 

Her face shifted back into its human appearance and her voice was that of a child. "I've missed you too. Paris didn't sparkle without you. The stars were always sad, and there was no-one to chide me when I dripped blood on my new dress." 

"What happened to your slimy fungus demon?" He grinned. "The antlers get in the way too much?" 

She smiled. "Miss Edith didn't approve of him, so she pushed him off of a building in London." She mimed his fall with her fingers. "I only had to help her a little bit." She wrapped her arms around him. "Can we be what we were again my Spike? All shiny and happy with dresses of silk and feasts of blood?" 

He smiled. "Sure princess, whatever you say." He hesitated, seeing Angel glaring at him as he attempted to disarm an over-zealous soldier. "I love you Dru." He slid the stake from his sleeve and thrust into her back. Drusilla's happy smile turned to a scowl as her face shifted. She growled and shoved him away as his stake bounced off the odd material. 

Her fierce face and yellow eyes stared at him in a fury tinged with hatred. "Liar!" She snarled. "All the voices in my head are crying and wailing now because of you. The prince cannot kill the princess, it's against all the laws of story land." 

He shrugged. "Sorry luv." 

She moved toward him then hesitated as she caught sight of Angel coming toward her from the back of the room. With a soft little cry of anger she drew her cloak closed. She smiled. "I see you playing in a pretty fire, all burning and pain and begging." She yanked the hood up. "The Stars will watch and so will I pretty Spike. The lion cannot lay for long amidst the lambs. What happens when he's hungry, and a little lamb cries and smells of sweetened meat?" She swept out the door and quickly past where Buffy and Kat still battled the demons. She slid into the passenger seat of a small car beside a black-clad human who drove her away with a squeal of burning rubber..   
  


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Lindsey watched as chaos unfolded. He saw Spike go after Drusilla as she tried to kill the black-haired Slayer. He jumped out of the way as a stream of army men surged through the door. He watched as Buffy and Twilight sent several flying on their way out the door. Angel took on two as the three the Slayers had thrown slowly regained their feet. He crept around the corners of the room to the door. 

Xander pushed Cordelia roughly behind him as sandy-haired soldier came at him holding a gun. He barely managed to fling himself at the soldier's legs as the man fired a quick series of bullets at the place where he'd just been standing. They went down in a tangle of bodies and Xander quickly yanked the gun away. He aimed it at the man's head and then hesitated, staring at the man, his face confused. The man stared back, his expression hateful. He reached quickly for a knife at his belt. Xander fired without hesitation. The soldier slumped to the floor, dead. Xander stood motionless, staring down at the man he'd just killed. A man. Not a vampire, not a demon, not something evil by nature. Just a man. He backed away, nearly tripping over the chair behind him. He didn't see the other soldier coming from his right. He didn't see anything except the corpse in front of him, and he didn't hear anything except the thousands of thoughts spinning around in his mind, his newly learned shielding forgotten. Dimly he heard his name being yelled from behind him, but he couldn't seem to focus on it. Suddenly his world turned upside down and he was shoved violently to the floor. He pushed himself up onto his hands and turned as the sound of a bullet roared into his abruptly wide open ears. 

Cordelia stood there, her dark eyes wide, her legs splayed in a stance utterly lacking in grace and bordering on collapse. He realized who had pushed him out of the way, and why as she raised a hand to her shoulder. It came away covered in blood. She looked at him, fear in her eyes now. "Xander?" He turned from her to the her shooter and saw the soldier standing there, his gun raised to finish her off. He tried to climb to his feet, but he was too slow and she was too far away. Time slowed to a crawl as the gun fired. 

From out of nowhere a figure shoved her roughly aside. Lindsey's back arched and his mouth opened in a soundless cry as the bullets meant for Cordelia sped deeply into his chest and side instead. Xander raised the gun he still held and fired, military skills he'd thought he'd long since forgotten taking over. The bullet flew straight into the soldier's forehead, and he fell heavily to the floor. Xander stood and looked down at the two who lay unconscious side by side. One dying, and one in danger of doing so. The confusion in his expression faded and he turned away. With cold deliberation he walked toward one of the three soldiers surrounding Angel. Without a word of warning or a hint of hesitation. He fired his last two shots. Two fell silently to the bloody carpeted floor. A small part of him observed that Giles would have a hell of a cleaning bill coming. Angel glanced at him briefly before bounding forward and raising the small metal ax he held and ramming the blunt end across the man's skull. He slumped to the floor unconscious. Angel turned to where Drusilla and Spike still stood as Xander stared down at the unconscious man. Idly, he wished he had another bullet in his gun. After a moment he realized what he'd been thinking and his face turned pure white. Tears in his eyes, he fell to his knees and was violently sick.   
  


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Giles grabbed for a weapon from his chest, Wesley a step behind him when he saw what the chest contained. Archaic weapons seemed useless against the thoroughly modern guns the soldiers sported, but they were far better than bare hands. Two soldiers stood in the doorway, guns leveled at Tara and Willow, who were hurriedly chanting a spell from their place in the corner. The two former Watchers rushed forward and drew the soldier's attention away from the girls. With effective use of the blunt weapons they each held, they each managed to disarm one of the soldiers. The army men turned and smiled almost identical dismissive smiles at the men who opposed them. Obviously the Watchers were not their idea of competent opponents. Unseen by either the Watchers or the soldiers they faced, Willow and Tara rushed to the doorway to help Kat and Buffy. Giles managed to quickly pummel the younger man in the face with the short club like thing he had dug out of his weapon's chest. He couldn't remember what it was supposed to do . . . some kind of focal point for a spell involving an earthquake he thought, but it seemed to be doing an effective job as a club. The soldier fell back in surprise and Giles followed him, sweeping his feet out from beneath him with a well placed kick and quickly crouching to strike him across the back of his head. The man lapsed into senselessness. Giles stood to help Wesley only to see the other Watcher finishing his own opponent off with a large leather bound book, his own weapon having been knocked out of his hands. Giles smiled at Wesley, both men panting slightly. Wesley smiled back. "Well, score two for the Watchers. I do hope Cordelia saw that. She INSISTS on acting as if I can't take care of myse-" 

Both men turned to see Cordelia fall, Lindsey a moment behind her as the bullet sprayed into him. Giles watches speechlessly as Xander shot the soldier. He saw the boy- the young man turn and raise the gun to some of the remaining military men. He lurched forward to stop him, Wesley already sprinting across the room to where Cordelia and Lindsey lay. He was too late. The men fell and Xander dropped to his knees while Angel ran toward an already fleeing Drusilla. He saw Xander fall to his knees, his shoulders lurching up and down as he gagged. Behind him Willow, Tara and Buffy returned, a stumbling and blind Kat behind them, the gouges on her face already beginning to heal. Buffy pushed her into a chair as Angel pulled several lengths of cord from Giles weapon chest, giving Giles a quick strange glance, wondering why it was there in the first place. He began to tie up the soldiers who were still alive as Wesley and Willow lifted the slowly awakening Cordelia onto the sofa, Wesley pressing a dish towel he'd stolen from the kitchen against her bleeding shoulder.   
  


Giles walked to where Lindsey lay. He knelt and rolled the man carefully onto his back, checking for a pulse. He felt a weak throb at his wrist and looked up to Buffy and Xander, who had come to stand beside him, Xander looking ill used. Angel stood further back, hovering over Wesley and Cordelia with a concerned face. "He's not going to last for long, I'm afraid." 

Xander nodded toward Cordelia. "He saved her life." His face showed overwhelming guilt. "After she got shot saving mine." 

Buffy put a hand on his shoulder consolingly. Willow huddled with Tara against the wall, looking in horror around the corpse strewn room. Lindsey coughed suddenly, startling all of them. He opened his eyes and looked at them with a dull gaze. Giles pushed down gently at his chest when he began to struggle to sit up. "Don't move. You've been very seriously injured, you should just lie still until the paramedics arrive." 

Lindsey took a ragged breath. "I won't last that long." Giles looked away, but didn't dispute the comment. "Help me sit up." The Watcher hesitated, than complied, propping the other man up against the wall. Lindsey squinted toward where Cordelia sat, obviously not able to see her very well. "Is she alright?" 

Buffy nodded. "She's fine, thanks to you. But why did you help her?" 

Lindsey laughed, the sound ending in a pain gasp when his chest heaved with his own laughs. "Damned if I know. Because they wanted her dead I guess." He stopped for a moment. "And because she always tried to help people." Buffy exchanged a quick mystified glance with Willow, who shrugged her shoulders in reply. 

Xander looked quickly toward Buffy, than back to Lindsey. His voice was urgent. "Lindsey . . . tell Buffy what she has to know. What you were going to tell her before." 

Lindsey was fading quickly back toward unconsciousness, the blood seeping from his chest was flowing more slowly now. He only had moments left. He turned weakly to Buffy. "The . . . ritual. I don't know why, but . . . they took, needed, the blood of one who loves a soldier." 

She looked blank. "Loves a soldier." 

"A warrior. For the other side." Lindsey coughed again and then his head slumped forward. Giles checked his pulse again, and shook his head. He carefully laid the man's body back on the floor and stood, searching his pockets for his car keys. The look he gave Buffy was sad. He seemed to know what Lindsey had been saying, though Buffy still did not. 

"What . . . what did he mean? The blood of a warrior? They need the blood of a slayer?" 

Xander shook his head, his face sad. "No Buffy. They needed the blood of one who LOVED the slayer. Someone who loved a warrior for the good side, to complete whatever it is they're doing." 

Her face fell and her silver eyes filled with unshed tears. "Riley." 

Xander nodded. "I'm sorry Buff." 

She wiped her eyes and looked toward Giles, who was shuffling the keys he'd found between his fingers. He cleared his throat and looked away. "We have to get Cordelia to a hospital. We can't call an ambulance, there's a bit too much here for them to see. I'll drive her." 

Buffy nodded, her face carefully blank, her eyes forcibly dry. "We'll get rid of the bodies and do . . . something with the ones that are still alive." Giles nodded and carefully lifted Cordelia into his arms. He walked to his car, Wesley following. 

For a moment, the rest of them looked around again. Already they had lost people, and nearly lost a friend. And they had yet to even try to stop them from whatever they were doing at the Hellmouth tonight. Silently, each wondered whether any of them would survive tonight. As one they swept into action, the humans pulling bodies toward the door and gathering, the vampires roughly lifting the tied men and moving them into a corner and tying them more securely. Only Kat still sat, her sightless eyes slowly healing, her tired head drooping for a moment onto the table beside her as she slipped in and out of sleep.   
  


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	16. Revelations

Author's Note: See? I told you it wouldn't be too long before the next part. Thanks again to all my readers, and a BIG thanks to Laura my Beta reader, who caught a BIG boo-boo before I embarrassed my self and posted this. Everyone revving up for the finish? Shouldn't be too long now. As always, reviews and e-mails welcomed and appreciated.   
  


### **Part Fifteen**

### **Revelations**

###### "Think where man's glory most begins and ends,

###### And say my glory was I had such friends." 

###### -- William Butler Yeats

  
  


Rough hands shook her none too gently awake. She sat up painfully, glaring at the offending figure through slitted eyes that still saw nothing but a vague blur. "Oww. Severely injured people do not generally appreciate being shaken awake." 

Spike smiled, though she couldn't see. He held out a packet of blood. "Here." 

She took it, her face mystified as she stared at it. "What's this?" 

"It's blood. Drink it." 

She pushed it hastily away. "No-no. I don't want it." 

He pushed her hands away and refused to take it. "None of that. Don't worry- t's not human. It's just a bit of butcher's blood I left in Giles' fridge." 

Her expression hardened. "I don't want it." 

"Oh bloody hell!" He reached down and tore the packet away from her, biting it quickly open. He pushed it back into her hands, which had begun to tremble as the smell of blood hit the air from the newly open packet. "Don't be a cow. We both know you'll heal up nice and quick-like if you drink. I've seen you do it before. Don't go all vegetarian on me now." 

She raised her hand with the obvious intent of flinging the open packet of blood at him when another hand fell on her shoulder. She stopped, lowering her hand. Buffy smiled faintly at Spike and spoke to her. "Go ahead Kat. We'll need you seeing in full technicolor tonight, alright? I'm sorry, but if you DO heal faster with it . . ." She trailed off, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. 

Kat grimaced, but nodded in assent. She took a deep breath and raised the leaking packet to her lips. As soon as the liquid hit her throat she began to swallow rapidly, her face shifting into its vampire form. She drained the packet with a growling gulp and then flung the plastic away. Her injured eyes were tightly shut and she gripped the edges of the chair she sat on hard enough to splinter the wood. Slowly the soft growls faded and her face shifted back into its normal appearance. The people scattered around the room watched in surprised fascination as her wounds healed themselves in moments right before their eyes. Finally Kat opened her newly healed eyes and offered Spike and Buffy a shaky smile. She fingered the hole in her shirt where the demon's knife had pierced, feeling the still slightly tender spot where the knife had gone into her stomach. 

Buffy stared. "I've never seen anyone heal that fast. Not slayers OR vampires." 

Kat shrugged. "It's much slower when I don't drink." 

"Still. It's like some . .. super-condensed form of Slayer-healing and vampire-healing." 

Spike grinned. "Comes in handy now and again, right Kitten." She shot him a dirty look and he subsided, a smile still playing around his lips. She gave him an odd look. He seemed . . . different. More animated than he'd been since she saw him again for the first time yesterday. She looked away and dismissed the thought. It was just the after-effects of the battle most likely. 

Kat turned to where Xander sat, his head in his hands, his back slumped into the sofa. She watched him sadly, Buffy followed her gaze and nodded. "He's been like that since we finished moving the bodies." She was silent a moment, her face thoughtful as she picked through her own memories. "It's hard . . . the first time you kill a man. It's different than killing a demon or vampire. It hits you different." Another long moment passed in silence before she spoke again. "Some people never get over it. They start down that path and, almost before they know what's happened, they've become the evil they once tried to fight." 

Kat looked at her in understanding. "Faith?" 

Buffy nodded. "He'll take it hard too." 

Kat smiled faintly. "That's because he's a pure soul. I've lived a long time." Her smile widened. "Even if you don't count the times I was napping." She waited for a smile to cross Buffy's lips than continued. "And in all that time, I can't say I've met anyone more honest and genuine than him." 

The younger slayer nodded. "I know. He was special even before he learned the Jedi mind trick. HE was the only one that didn't understand that." 

"That's usually the way it is." Kat stood and walked across the room, sitting beside Xander silently. He didn't look up. She hesitated then put a hand on his shoulder. 

He looked up at her, his expression bleak. "What?" 

"Are you . . . . alright?" 

He laughed bitterly. "Oh I'm just peachy. I just fired bullets through four men's skulls, I'm ready to hit the town." 

She lowered her hand, her voice soft when she spoke. "Xander, it couldn't be helped." 

"Why not? Giles, Wesley, Angel; they just knocked their little plastic army men out. Not me, I had to spray-paint with their brains." 

"They had other options. You did the best you could with the weapons you had. You had no other choice. You may have saved your friends' lives today." 

He shook his head. "You know what the scary part is? I didn't CARE. I killed them, and I didn't care. After the first one, I was a little shook up, but then it was nothing. Boom, dead soldier-boy." He smiled a bit. "I didn't throw up because they were dead. I threw up because I was GLAD they were dead." 

Kat sat forward, gripping his arm until he turned to look at her. "Xander, everyone has this inside them, the ability to destroy. You weren't glad they were dead, you were glad it was over. You were glad that you'd won. There's a difference." Her expression was deadly serious, her silver eyes glinting with determination. "Now you KNOW that you have this capability. It doesn't have to ruin your life. Just be aware of it . . . and be aware of your own desires." She lowered her voice. "Don't let this one thing rule you. This is a war, sometimes, people have to die alongside the monsters." She hesitated. "Besides, these were NOT good men. They came here to kill people, to kill YOU and Cordelia especially. And Spike heard them say that it was all just to get paid. Don't beat yourself up for too long Xander. Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes, they're even human." She smiled. "And sometimes, monsters can have more good in them than the humans that run away at the sight of them." 

Xander smiled a bit. "Yeah well, that last one is a rare occurrence. I haven't met many cuddly demons." 

Her smiled widened. "There are a few. I'll introduce you someday." 

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, that'll be great. Don't call me, I'll call you." 

She laughed and climbed to her feet again. She reached down and ruffled his hair in an oddly affectionate gesture. She turned to see Willow watching her, her expression vaguely suspicious. Kat smiled at her and idly fingered the large hole in her shirt again. "Anyone got a clean shirt that doesn't come with air conditioning?"   
  


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Cordelia lay on the bed, the fingers of her right hand idly tracing the tape surrounding the IV in her left. She glared furiously at the young doctor who stood in front of her, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "I don't care what Mr. 'I got my doctorate at a mail order correspondence course' says Wesley, I am NOT staying here overnight." 

The doctor, flushed with embarrassment and resentment. "Miss Chase, you've had a severe trauma, it's hospital policy to keep you at LEAST overnight under such circumstances. The police will want to discuss things with you, I'm afraid I simply can't let you leave right no-" 

"What is this, Alcatraz? I'm sorry WARDEN, but you can't keep me here. I'm a free woman and I want out NOW." 

The doctor sighed in defeat. "Fine. You're right, I can't force you to stay. But if you I hope you're aware that it's against medical advice, and you are greater risk for complications and diff-" 

"Doctor Michaelis, we understand. We'll keep a close watch on Ms. Chase, I assure you. If she seems worse in ANY way, we'll bring her straight back." Wesley spoke soothingly, trying to calm both the doctor and Cordelia. 

Cordelia smiled triumphantly. "See? Now take this IV out of my hand and give me back my clothes." 

The doctor stepped forward and quickly removed the IV, covering the wound it left with cotton and medical tape. Cordelia winced and rubbed at the sore spot while Giles reached under the bed for her bag of clothes. He frowned when he pulled her shredded shirt out of the bag. "Cordelia, they seem to have cut these off of you. I don't think they're wearable." 

She cursed faintly. "That blouse was ONE OF A KIND!" She yanked the material away and looked for herself. She sighed in resignation. "Okay, fine. Would you please go down to the gift shop? I know they have shorts and tee shirts there. Would you just get me something to wear home please?" Both men jumped at once, but Giles beat Wesley out the door and headed off down the hall. 

Dr. Michaelis stepped away from the bed, making notations on his chart and sending frequent disapproving glances toward Wesley and Cordelia. 

Cordelia ignored him. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again. Wesley watched in horror as her hands flew to her head and she fell back in a shaking mass on the bed, her eyes squinted shut as she panted in pain. The doctor rushed back to the bed. "She's seizing!" He screamed into the hallway for a nurse. "Nurse, bring me a-" 

Wesley lunged forward and pushed away the syringe the doctor held. "N-no!" She's not seizing." He leaned over her protectively as the doctor stared at him in open-mouthed shock. "It's a . . . . condition. A mental condition. She's undergoing therapy for it. When stressed she . . . . sees things. Things that aren't there. She'll be fine in a moment." The doctor stared at him doubtfully, a second away from shoving Wesley aside and treating his patient despite the Watcher's objections when Cordelia's tensed body relaxed and her eyes opened. 

Dr. Michaelis surged forward. "Are you alright?" 

Cordelia gave him a watery smile. "I'm fine. Did you see all the dancing seahorses? So pretty . . . ." The look she gave him was one of studied innocence. 

He studied her doubtfully. "Umm . . . no. You're sure you're fine." 

Her dreamy smile widened. "Uh-huh. Take me home now Wesley, the seahorses say to go home." 

Wesley nodded and patted her head. "Yes Cordelia. We'll go home now. We'll go home and see Dr. ah- Summers and we'll feel much better." Cordelia nodded and laughed happily. 

Dr. Michaelis still looked highly suspicious. "I could have her see a therapist from the hospital, we have some highly accredited individuals working he-" 

"NO!" Cordelia and Wesley spoke in unison, startling one another. Wesley cleared his throat and shot Cordelia a quelling look. "No thank you, Dr. Summers is fully capable of dealing with Cordelia's delusions. We'll be on our way as soon as Cordelia's ah-uncle returns with her clothes. We've already filled out the paperwork and signed the forms. You can send the police to our home address if they need to speak with us. Thank you doctor." 

Dr. Michaelis left without responding, shaking his head in befuddlement. Giles returned a moment later, holding a pink tee shirt and bright green shorts. Cordelia gazed at the clothes in disgust. "First the getting shot, then the head-breaking vision, then WESLEY decides to tell the doctor I'm INSANE and now neon colored clothes. Its just been a HELL of a day." She stood shakily and yanked the clothes away from Giles, walking slowly to the bathroom, the flimsy hospital gown held firmly shut with her right hand. 

Giles looked at Wesley in obvious confusion. "Insane? Why did you tell the doctor she was insane?" 

Wesley shook his head. "She had a vision! He thought she was having a seizure, nearly shot her up with God knows what to combat the seizure she DIDN'T have. What was I supposed to say?" 

Cordelia's voice floated muffled through the bathroom door. "You couldn't have said I was epileptic, or that I was meditating or something. No, YOU went right to 'reject from the looney bin!'" 

"You were jerking around like a fish on a hook, I hardly think he would have believed you were meditating on the meaning of life. Insane was the first logical explanation I could think of." At Giles raised eyebrows he amended that. "Well, somewhat logical in any case." 

Cordelia emerged from the bathroom, looking miserable in her neon outfit. "Giles, you couldn't have found something a little brighter? I'm afraid a few people might NOT notice how awful I look on my way out the door." 

He smiled. "I'm sorry Cordelia, they had a limited selection at the gift shop. I assumed the pink was better than traffic-cone orange." 

She looked horrified. "Yes, pink a big step up from orange." 

Wesley was grinning at her in obvious enjoyment. His smile faded as he remembered what had caused the lie in the first place. "Cordelia . . . your vision? What did you see?" 

She looked at him with wide haunted eyes. "Not now. When we get back. I don't want to repeat myself fifty times." 

They filed out of the room and walked down to the elevator, Cordelia's outlandish outfit drawing more than a few amused eyes. They pressed the button for the elevator and Wesley caught sight of Cordelia's doctor, approaching with a scowl, a wheelchair, and a determined expression. He hurried them into the elevator to avoid the doctor, Cordelia grinning in triumph because she'd managed to walk out of the hospital, despite the strict wheelchair exit only policy. As the doors closed behind them, Giles turned to Cordelia, concern etching his face. "Was it . . . . bad?" 

She grimaced. "Oh baby yeah." 

"And it's about the situation we currently face." She nodded mutely and the three fell back into silence as the doors opened and more people got onto the elevator.   
  


****************************************************************************** 

Angel hung up his cell phone with a soft click. "They're on their way back, against the doctor's advice. Cordelia's doing fine though. She won't lose any use of the arm or shoulder. She lost a lot of blood though, had to have a transfusion." He glanced from person to person, each of whom was absorbed in one of the books they'd dug back out of Giles' luggage, vainly searching for information on the Balance. "She had a vision." 

Everyone waited for him to continue. When he didn't, Willow sighed heavily. "What about?" 

Angel shrugged. "She hasn't told anyone yet, says she's waiting until we're all together." 

Willow nodded and returned to her book, flipping pages faster as she skimmed for information. Tara tapped her on the shoulder and showed her a passage from the book she held. Willow read it quickly, whispering to Tara, apparently translating something. Both girls frowned in frustration after reading it and resumed their research. Angel stared sightlessly down at his own book, knowing reading it was useless. He'd never been much good at finding information. That was Wesley's job or Giles' job, or even Cordelia's job. He felt helpless, useless, clueless, and restless. None of which was helping him focus on the book he held. His eyes kept straying to Buffy and Katerina, who sat side by side, heads bent as they read, occasionally speaking or showing one another a page. Like friends. 

Rationally, he could understand it. Two slayers, alike in so many ways, different in so many others, but sharing a common legacy, heritage, and burden. Buffy hadn't gotten along all that well with Faith, or even Kendra, when they first met, but eventually the weight they all shared on their slender shoulders had made them friends. Kendra had died, and Faith had betrayed that trust. Kat was more like Buffy than either of them. It was natural for Buffy and her to fall in together. But the other part of him, the possessive part that loved both women in different ways, couldn't grasp it. What Kat had done had changed everything. Every time he looked at her, he thought of all she'd done for him, and all she'd meant to him. He thought of how difficult her life had been and how much he'd wanted her to have a chance to live a life with SOME semblance of happiness and normalcy. And then he'd look at Buffy and he'd want to tear Kat into little pieces. 

Buffy, his shining, strong, utterly HUMAN Buffy seemed a stranger to him now. Always, in the back of his mind, thoughts he never dared acknowledge sat. Thoughts of him earning his humanity, and going back to claim Buffy, where she'd been patiently awaiting him with open arms. Thoughts of a normal life, where they were just two people, not the vampire with a soul and his slayer love. Kat had called him a martyr, searching for a cause. And she was right. He'd lived his whole human life searching for something great to offer his life to. He'd thought he'd found it the night Darla had changed him. He was wrong. He'd lived for a hundred and fifty years as a soul-less monster instead. And much as he wanted what the Powers offered him - and he wanted it desperately- he still believed that he didn't deserve it. At the depths of his heart and his precariously seated soul, he believed he was unworthy of redemption. And in this moment, he admitted to himself that he'd never had any intention of living that longed for normal life. He WANTED to live that life, but he needed to suffer, because he had spent over a century earning his purgatory. 

But he'd developed his careful little deception, with The Powers' promise in its forefront, giving him . . . and those who toiled beside him something to hope for. He never faced the side of himself that believed he wasn't worthy. Often in his inner dialogues, the demon in him- the part he kept separate and denied being associated with, the section of his being he always referred to as Angelus- flung the truth of his own beliefs in his face. Forcing him to see the futility of his fight against the darkness, trying to tempt him to give in. He hadn't. He didn't think he ever would, not completely. But he needed the lie, the deception, the distraction, the false hope. He needed it to keep going. And she'd taken that from him. She'd taken the purity from his goals, and she'd shoved his nose in his own mess with brutal honesty. He hated her for that. And, if possible, he hated himself for being too shallow and weak to forgive the woman who'd been his first true friend. 

He cursed and threw the book aside, jumping restlessly to his feet and prowling around the room, his eyes always going back to the two women who consumed his thoughts. He spun around to retrace the circuit he'd made of the room and found himself looking directly into Spike's brown eyes and obvious amusement. He growled faintly, obviously not in the mood to deal with Spike. The other vampire didn't speak- he just stared. After a moment, Spike leaned forward, his voice quiet, his tone mocking. "You should tell her you're sorry. You'll feel better." 

Angel reached forward and grabbed Spike by the collar of his leather jackets, lifting him off his feet. Spike barely blinked. Angel felt his face on the verge of shifting, and felt the eyes of the rest of the room boring into his back. He released Spike and gathered himself. He leaned closer to Spike's smirking face and spoke, his voice low and feral. "Tell me William, does your good friend Katerina know where you got this?" He fingered the black jacket he wore. "She knows about the first slayer, but what about the second? Do you think she'd be happy if she knew?" His lips curled into a cruel smile. "I think not." 

Spike's smile died away and an expression of concern crossed his face. He said nothing, but his eyes darkened. 

Kat's voice sounded from behind both of them, startling Angel, whose back had been to her, and Spike, who'd never noticed her coming. "You're both fools. Of course I know." 

Spike gaped. "Kitten . . . how . . . why?" 

She smiled with an utter lack of mirth. "I read Spike. And I listen. I know of William the Bloody, who's massacred two slayers." 

Spike cleared his throat. "Then, ah, why didn't you say anything? Take me to task, smack me around? Something?" 

She smiled again, the expression sad this time. "Because it was over and done with, and you've already changed from the vampire I knew then, who was capable of that. Because I wasn't there to stop you, and it was in your nature." She met Angel's eyes. "And because I'd already forgiven you." She turned and walked back to the table. 

Buffy watched her approach, her eyes going from her to the two stunned men she'd left standing behind her. She raised her eyebrows and smiled at the two of them before going back to her book, a part of her wondering when she'd stopped thinking of Spike as a vampire and had begun to think of him as a man, as she always had done with Angel. Xander glanced up from the book he held, scowling unseen at Buffy's back. 

Both stood there a moment, wondering what they should say. The door swinging open to reveal Wesley, Cordelia beside him sporting a well padded and bandaged shoulder and an appallingly bright outfit in god-awful shades of flamingo pink and palm tree green. 

Angel swept forward to fuss over her, helping her into a chair and speaking in a comical whisper. She looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Angel . . . what are you doing?" 

He stepped back, his expression funny in its confusion. "Being comforting?" 

She shook her head. "Well stop it. You're scaring the children." She pointed to Wesley and Giles, who scowled back at her. The rest of them laughed and the tension of a few moments ago faded. Buffy looked at Cordelia questioningly. The other girl winked back at her. Buffy smiled. Cordelia had changed. A few years ago she wouldn't have noticed the tense atmosphere of the room, much less managed to dissipate it. 

Wesley rolled his eyes and settled onto a chair. "Alright Cordelia, now that everyone knows you're alright, and have seen your STUNNING ensemble, why don't we discuss your vision." 

Cordelia made a face at him. "I'm still not speaking to you. I'm not capable of it, I'm certifiable, remember? I have to go climb up on the roof and try to fly off. Then go running through the neighborhood naked, screaming that leprechauns are chasing me." 

Wesley grinned. "Fine, just let me get the video camera." She stuck her tongue out at him, trying to bite back a giggle. 

"Children, can we focus here please?" Everyone turned to Buffy in surprise. "Well, Giles was just standing there, someone had to be a grown up." 

"And somehow, that doesn't strike me as being you." Xander grinned to show he was kidding. 

Buffy glared. "Like you're a more likely candidate." 

He raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I just work here. No grown up leading the party for me. I'll just follow blindly, thank you." Buffy concentrated and thought something surprisingly nasty at him. He grinned and flushed in surprise. "Buffster, been hanging around a sailor's bar lately? Nice use of the naughty side of the language." 

She smiled faintly. "You'd be surprised how many vampires have potty mouths." 

He nodded sagely. "The Undead have the WORST manners." 

"Okay, enough with the comic relief already. Vision girl speaking now. The rest of you shut up. She pointed at Xander. "That includes you. No thought swiping. My mind has a large do not enter sign." She hesitated as everyone stared at her. "This isn't good you guys." 

Giles snorted, his nose in the sheaf of notes Willow had handed him. "Really? And our messages and prophecies from the higher powers are usually so bright and chipper." 

Cordelia's picked an eraser up off the table behind her and threw it at the former Watcher. He grunted in surprise and glanced around to see where the small missile had come from. "As I was saying, this isn't good." She took a deep breath. "They showed me what Wolfram & Hart is trying to do, and what will happen if they succeed. There's a ritual, performed on the Hellmouth. A tall man with glasses and dark hair is chanting. There's this huge silver . . . . thing. I can't see it very well. He throws a vial of something at it. When he throws it, I saw . . . ." She looked anywhere but at Buffy. "I saw Riley, just this quick flash of him laying somewhere, not moving. I think it was a vial of his blood. I'm sorry, I think he's dead Buffy." She looked toward Buffy finally, and seemed faintly surprised by the other girl's lack of surprise. 

Buffy blinked back tears. "I k-know Cordelia. Lindsey told us while you were unconscious." Cordelia suddenly paled. "Lindsey! Is he . . .?" 

Xander put a hand on the Seer's shoulder. "He's dead Cordy." 

She trembled. "He saved my life. He was awful and terrible and did evil bad things . . . but he died to save me. I can't believe I forgot about him for this long. Why would he do something like that?" No one answered. They knew there was nothing to say. They didn't understand Lindsey's actions anymore than she did. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. There was no time for mourning or wondering why. She knew that. She continued. "He threw some other things on there, I couldn't tell what. And the silver thing . . . shifted. It changed. There was this blast of energy and I saw us, standing beside the silver thing. The tall man was incinerated by the blast, and we were all thrown backwards. A voice spoke, but I couldn't understand what it said. It was . . .inhuman. And then Buffy and Kat stood and looked at us . . . and it wasn't them. They were vampires. REAL vampires. Angel and Spike tried to stop them. Spike said something to Kat and she laughed, and he tried to stake her." Her voice lowered. "She staked him instead. She took his coat." 

She looked to where Angel stood, an expression of shock on his face. "And Buffy . . . she kissed you, and hugged you and spoke to you. And you cried." Her voice was incredibly sad. "And you staked yourself. And Kat ate Xander, and I just lay there, watching. Not caring. Willow and Tara tried to stop them . . ." She swallowed hard. They all died. Except me. Because I was still their link to the Powers. Only now, I was working for a different team." Her voice broke. "I saw myself, seeing these horrible things coming- and HELPING them happen. WANTING them to happen. Then I saw Faith, in prison, just turn and kill some girl. No effort, no reason, just destruction. And then I saw Kat and Buffy do the same thing. Random death and killing. And then I saw me, standing behind them. Watching. Laughing." Tears slid down her cheeks. "We all died . . . even those of us who were still alive." 

The room was silence. Pale faces and teary eyes. Hopelessness hung around them and leaked into their pores. Kat looked horrified as she heard her worst fear outlined before her. She couldn't speak, couldn't move. It was Buffy who spoke. The rational voice in the madness. "Cordelia . . . did they show you how to stop it." 

The girl shook her head. "No. They just showed us losing." 

Giles banged his fist against the counter. "The Balance!" 

Buffy looked up at him. "What?" 

He prowled over to his bookcase scanning titles, though he knew well he wouldn't find the half-remembered text among his own books. "I read it once, in passing. In the Council's library." He pressed a hand to his temple, as if forcing the knowledge out. "The Balance is . . the force of things. The fence it's all balanced on, figuratively speaking. In simple terms, which is the only way the Council's library outlined it. I suspect the author knew even less about the truth of it than he pretended to. In its simplest form, there is evil on one side, and good on the other. That's all he knew." 

Kat spoke, her voice a hoarse imitation of its usual tones. Spike watched her with concern, while Angel tried not to. "Whatever they're going to do, this ritual. It's going to shift the balance. Which means-" 

"That the soldiers go and fight for the other side." Buffy finished. 

Wesley spoke hesitantly. "The slayers are the warriors for the side of good. Born with the urge to destroy evil and protect the innocent. If that is shifted." 

"Than we would be hell's best soul-less mercenaries." Buffy's voice was grim. She traded a glance with Kat." 

Giles nodded. "That must be it. Imagine a world where slayers were born to destroy. Now imagine that Wolfram & Hart managed to create a new way to raise multiple slayers. It would be-" 

"Hell on Earth. With the slayers as the tour guides and chief administrators." Xander stared at Kat. Her thoughts were rattling in his brain, and the simple fact that he COULD hear them, above many of the others even, was telling of how much this had rattled her. "We'll stop them. It will be okay." He directed the last toward Kat, his voice comforting. "Cordelia, when is the ritual? Midnight?" 

She shook her head. "I don't know . . . but I think sunset." As one the group looked outside at the still sunlit sky, and then toward the clock, whose hands pointed at 4:00. 

Xander rubbed his hands together nervously. "Just enough time to gather every weapon everyone has EVER owned." 

Buffy looked at him, then she looked slowly around the room at each of them in turn. "You're not going. Any of you." An outcry of protest arose. She ignored it. "You heard what happens if this succeeds. If we don't come back, you know we'll have failed. If we DO come back, you can be ready with weapons if we try to kill you. You'll stay here. All of you." 

"No." Xander's eyes clashed with Buffy's. For the first time, he stared into her silver gaze and didn't flinch away. "You don't own us Buffy. We know what we're here for. We're going. You can't stop us." 

Her voice was low and menacing. "Can't I?" 

He shook his head. "No. Not all of us." He looked at Kat. "And neither can you. No more putting the house to sleep. No more games. We've all known what fighting this war could mean for a long time now. We'll take our chances, and we'll stand with you. And if we have to, we'll die with you too." His lips curled into an irony tinged smile. "Whether you like it or not." 

The others stood behind him, nodding in agreement. Buffy turned to Angel, and sighed in defeat. She knew that face. She knew all their faces. She knew their hearts and their courage. She knew they wouldn't stay behind. Her eyes traveled to the bloodstain on the wall where Cordelia and Lindsey had fallen, and a terrible aching fear settled on her. They would follow, and they would die. And there was nothing she could do except try to prevent it all. She met Kat's searching gaze, and a thought passed unsaid between them. Each looked away, knowing the other was wishing the same thing. That they'd been born anyone, anything but a Slayer. She looked again at the clock. "One hour. And then we go back to high school." 

They rushed out the door, gathering weapons, components, crosses, anything that could offer protection. Both Kat and Buffy realized that no one left the room unattended, and that they were always watched. They were taking no chances, the Slayers would not be allowed to sneak off and face the lion's den alone. Buffy sank deeper into her chair and laid her head in her arms, trying to ward off the despair she felt clogging her mind. 

Kat touched her softly on the arm. "Buffy . . . . they wouldn't warn us if there wasn't a chance we could stop it." 

Buffy laughed without joy. "Yeah, but what are the chances of us getting all of them out of this alive? Even if we succeed, we both know we're bound to lose something." She looked at the people bustling about the small house. "Or we could lose everything." 

Kat looked about. "I've nothing left to lose. But I won't let you lose anything you love. And I won't lose you. I swear that much." 

Buffy stared at her. "How can you guarantee that?" 

Kat smiled. "Who's going to take me to task if I'm wrong?" 

Buffy was silent a moment, and then she laughed. The two smiled faintly at one another and Buffy squeezed Kat's shoulder in a gesture of affection and kinship. The despair lifted. They would do the only thing they could. They would fight. 

Buffy glanced furtively around, than leaned close to Kat, her voice a near whisper as she spoke. "In Cordelia's vision. . . . Angel and Spike tried to stop us." 

Kat nodded. "I know." 

"Why wouldn't Angel have been changed to the other side like we are?" 

Kat shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps because he wasn't born into his duties. He took them onto himself." 

Buffy's eyes traveled toward where Spike leaned insolently against the wall, saying something to Giles that was obviously irritating the older man. "Why would Spike stake you? Why would he care that you'd changed?" 

"I asked him to." 

Buffy's eyes snapped back to the dark haired slayer's face. "What? Why?" 

"An insurance policy. In case things don't work out and I become something I don't want to be." Kat was quiet, her eyes too traveling to the platinum-headed vampire. 

Buffy was silent for a moment as well, then shook her head. "Why wouldn't he go back to being evil? Even if he still couldn't kill things because of his chip, the Spike I first met would have enjoyed watching us do his killing for him, regardless of whatever promise he had made." She seemed to already know and accept the answer, she just wanted to know the reason for it, and wanted Kat to affirm that it was permanent. 

Kat did neither. She simply smiled. "The Spike you first me is not the same man who stands here now. He's not the Spike I knew anymore either. He's someone very similar, but very different to the vampire I spent a year dancing around Europe with." She met Spike's brown eyes and smiled back at him when he gave her his crooked grin. "Someone better I think." 

Buffy settled back into her chair, her face set in a thoughtful frown. Kat looked at her from the corner of her eye and smiled again.   
  


______________________________________________________________________________ 


	17. The Balance

  
  
  
  


### **Part Sixteen**

### **The Balance**

###### "I give the fight up: let there be an end,

###### A privacy, an obscure nook for me.

###### I want to be forgotten even by God."

###### --Robert Browning Paracelsus pt V

  
  


"They've posted sentries around the school." Xander wrinkled his nose. "Large, scaly, ugly, DRIPPY sentries that smell like Willow's cat's litter box." Willow elbowed him. He grunted in response. 

"How many?" Buffy's voice was terse. 

"At least eight. Probably more where we can't see." 

She cursed. "Too many to kill without making a noise. There's probably LOTS more lurking around. If we go after those, the noise will bring the rest running." 

Xander checked for the sixth time on the weapons in his arsenal, an impressive array of guns secreted about his person with additional ammo and a few knives hidden away. "Too bad we don't have an invisibility cloak." He looked up to see seven people staring at him in confusion. "What, am I the ONLY one who's read the Harry Potter books? Come ON people! Where have you BEEN? Are you capable of reading a book that's less than a thousand years old?" 

Kat smiled. "I've read them. The third one's my favorite." 

Xander grinned. "Mine too. Let me guess, you're tutor made you read them?" Her smiled faded and her face turned sad. She nodded in answer. 

Willow rolled her eyes. "Okay, well we don't have an invisibility thingy, but we have something better. Everyone hold hands." They did so quickly as Willow and Tara pulled a small packet of crushed herbs from the pack Willow had looped over her shoulder. Willow sifted some of the mixture onto each of their heads. They joined hands with each other and with Xander and Angel, completing the circle. Tara spoke, her voice held no trace of its occasional stutter as she cast the spell. "Athene, patron of justice. Aid your children in their cause. Cloak us from the eyes of the unworthy. Shelter us in your wisdom until the time to reveal and attack is nigh." A soft glow of golden light surrounded the group. They looked uncertainly at one another. 

"I can still see everyone." Buffy said. 

Tara nodded. "Tha-that's the beauty of this spell. Anyone you're joined with when the spell is cast you can still see. No-no one else can see us." 

Willow grinned. "And equally important, no THING else can see us!" 

Giles frowned. "How do we know that for certain?" 

Xander dropped Tara and Buffy's hands. "Like this." He walked around the corner and into full sight of the sentry who stood at the edge of the destroyed buildings. He picked a small piece of debris off of the ground and flung it at the demon. The creature grunted and spun around, glaring about suspiciously. After a moment it turned back with a dull shrug, resuming its post. Xander walked back, grinning. "Guess it worked." 

Buffy was fuming. "Of all the STUPID, dangerous, INFANTILE things to do! What if it hadn't worked, huh? The whole place-" 

"Buffy!" She stopped and turned to Angel, raising her eyebrows and looking faintly ashamed. "Time is not on our side." 

She nodded. "Let's go." Walking as silently as they could, the group began making their way through the ruined campus to the heart of the school, and the Hellmouth that dwelled within it.   
  


****************************************************************************** 

"Dear Lord." Giles' hushed whisper was still heard clearly by all of them. Silently, they echoed the statement. 

They stood at the edge of what had once been the library, and was currently a massive crater covered with painted symbols. Within the center of the room was a huge glowing sphere of sickly green light. Xander leaned into the center of the group. "Looks like they've been doing some renovating." 

Buffy nodded in assent. This place had looked nothing like this the last time she'd been here. Her eyes went to the man who knelt in the far right of the green sphere. His face was pale and he was sweating and shouting words he read from the book in front of him. She heard Giles hiss in recognition. This must be the renegade Watcher. Without thinking, she started forward. A hand on her arm stopped her. She turned to see Kat holding her, staring with recognition at the sphere. The Slayer turned to Tara and Willow. "Do you have any sulphur with you?" The girl's nodded and hastily drew a small packet out of Willow's pack. Kat sifted some into her palm and handed the bag back. She raised the powder to her lips and blew on it, murmuring some unknown syllable. She threw the powder into the circle. It sizzled as it passed through the green light and landed on the other side, glowing a bright cherry red. After a moment the color faded and the powder was indistinguishable from the rest of the floor. Kat turned to the rest. "These are the kind of spells I was trained for more than anything else. Shielding spells, detection spells, protection spells. This is a kind of shield popular with vampires. Nothing living can pass through without being burned to cinders." 

Xander looked angry. "So we can't get in there?" 

Kat shook her head. "You can't. Buffy, Angel, Spike, and I can." She frowned. "I wish you could. I suspect it will be safer for you within the circle than outside, once the alarm is sounded and we are revealed. The guards will come and you will be here, without us." She looked to Spike and Angel. "Perhaps you two could stay and help them?" Spike's look said there was no way in hell that was happening, Angel looked torn between helping the Slayers and protecting the others. 

Giles took the decision away from them. "What happens out here is immaterial. What is going on in there MUST be stopped. All the force we are capable of sending must go in there." 

Buffy protested. "It's only one man!" 

Kat shook her head. "Look closer." She pointed. 

Buffy looked and blinked. Pale, ghostly figures stood at the edges of the circle, barely discernible through the green glow. Wraith like with skeletal faces, they were like nothing she'd ever seen before. There were nine of them in all, arrayed around the circumference of the circle. "What are they?" 

"Assassins." Kat pulled her knife out and demanded a three more. They handed them over wordlessly, one from Giles and two from Xander. "Demons call them The Unspoken. To speak their name is to call them to you. No human or vampire has ever heard their true name. They can only be summoned by a pure demon, and are the elite killers of a dimension not far from our own. If someone summons them whom they deem unworthy, they kill him in various nasty ways and condemn his soul into their keeping. There are always nine of them. They are invulnerable to steel, wood, fire, sun- nothing can harm them except silver. Like a werewolf. They can be competent fighters, but usually kill by sucking a demon's life force. They can't do that to humans or vampires." She spun Willow around without asking and dug quickly through her pack, removing a small vial of what looked like shredded flowers. Willow looked faintly offended, but said nothing. Kat rubbed a handful of the stuff along each blade and whispered something else no one but her understood. The blades glowed one by one a dull violet and then glinted silver. 

Tara and Willow looked envious. "Yo-you've got to teach us that!" Tara glanced away when Kat gave her a confused look. 

Realizing what she was talking about, Kat smiled. "If we all come through this, it's a promise." She handed one of the knives to each of the four. 

Buffy took hers. "Alright. We're going to be mobbed by those things once we get in there. ONE of us has to get to the Watcher and stop the ritual. It doesn't matter which one, just stop him however you can. If you have to kill him, kill him." She looked toward Spike. "You keep the demons busy since you can't attack the human anyway." Spike nodded, an odd look on his face. Buffy paid no attention, but Kat noticed. Xander glanced sharply at the blonde vampire, his eyes widening. He said nothing though. Buffy took a deep breath and glanced around. "Are we ready?" They all nodded. "Will, when will this spell fade?" 

The redhead's face was pale with fright, but her voice was steady. "As soon as you move forward to attack. Probably as soon as you pass through the circle." 

Buffy nodded. "Let's go." She looked to her friends. "Just . . . . be careful guys." She said nothing else, just stepped forward and waited for the others to step beside her. 

They stepped forward, faces grim. A faint smile touched Spike's face. He glanced at Kat and raised his eyebrows. "Once more into the breach dear friends?" 

She smiled back and shook her head. "'We happy few, we band of brothers.'" She chuckled as both Buffy and Angel looked at them in confusion. "Sorry. Bad time for inside jokes and Shakespeare quotes." 

Buffy smiled finally. "'For he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.'" Spike and Kat looked at her in surprised pleasure, Angel just in surprise. She shook her head. "What? I read too!" 

Angel shrugged. "I never liked the bard much. How about a touch of Byron? 'They never fail who die in a great cause.'" 

Buffy made a face. "Yours was depressing." 

Angel smiled and shrugged again. "And yours was all sunshine and cheerfulness?" 

Buffy grinned. "Good point." The four shared a final smile and then stepped as one through the sphere, feeling their invisibility fade as they did so. No one said goodbye. It was left unsaid. Those they had to leave behind watched and prayed to every god they could think of, and a few they might have made up.   
  


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They moved impossibly fast. Thin, pale arms stretched nearly as long as their tall bodies and grasped from every direction. They held no weapons, save the long hooked claws and vicious fangs. She'd found out the hard way about the hypnotic eyes, nearly falling to one while another held her spellbound with a gaze. It seemed impossible that there were only nine. They moved so quickly, they seemed limitless. The chanting of the Watcher was barely distinguishable over the high pitched wail the creatures made as they fought, ghastly mouths stretched in smiles and forked tongues rolling over the sounds of their constant noise. It grated along her nerves, making her edgy, careless. She gasped as a razor sharp claw grazed her side, nicking her. She ignored the wound and the creature who'd caused it, spinning instead to attack the two behind her. Her silver knife caught one in the throat, half severing its neck. It gave a gurgling moan and then collapsed. She cursed as a splatter of blood hit her hand and sizzled. She lashed out with the injured hand, wiping the acidic substance on the arm of another of the creatures. The demon howled in pain. Buffy tried to yell over the noise. "They bleed acid!" Only Spike, who fought nearest her, gave any sign of hearing. He lashed out with his own knife and caught one of the demons in the stomach. It howled as the other one had and lashed out with a claw, leaving deep gouges in the vampire's chest. 

Buffy bounded after another of the demons that was bearing down on Angel, who already faced two, Kat having taken on one of the two that Buffy had faced. She fought furiously, panting when finally she managed to kill another of the creatures. She took a quick inventory and realized that only four of the things remained. Kat held two at bay while Spike and Angel fought side by side against the other two. She turned to where the Watcher now stood, his hands uplifted, his voice high and painfully nasal, the strange words coming faster than she would have thought possible. She sprinted across the circle at him, her hands outstretched when something pushed painfully into her chest. She flew briefly backwards, landing with a bone-jarring crash. She looked down at her chest. Her shirt was blackened and the skin beneath it felt burned. She leapt to her feet, moving more carefully toward the Watcher, looking for some kind of invisible barrier. She found none. 

Instead she flew again, crying out as something grabbed her by the shoulder and hurled her away, burning her skin nearly to the bone as it did. She landed nearly at the edge of the circle, pain racing through her in waves. She held desperately to her consciousness, feeling blackness threatening the edge of her vision. She pushed it away and stood on wobbly legs, looking around for the assailant she couldn't see. 

Another of the nine demons had fallen, and Angel moved toward her as she flew for the second time. His eyes widened when he saw her thrown, seeing no trace of what had thrown her. He heard a howling scream and saw one of the creatures Kat had been fighting fall. The Slayer was bleeding in at least two places and the pink shirt she'd borrowed from Willow was shredded down the back. But she moved as quickly as ever as she advanced on the demon. Angel sent another look toward Buffy and made a decision. He ran to where Kat was and attacked the demon opposite her. "Go help Buffy!" Kat didn't wait for conformation, she sprinted to where the other Slayer stood. 

She didn't make it. She hit an invisible wall of force and felt hands she couldn't see close around her neck, lifting her roughly off the ground. She screamed as the flesh on her throat began to burn. She lashed out her legs as best she could. She felt her feet connect with something and heard a gasp. She was dropped and fell heavily to the floor, rolling quickly away and toward Buffy. The two Slayers stood side by side, trying to hear the invisible menace approaching over the wailing of the final demon and the nasal chanting of the Watcher. Kat leaned close to Buffy. "The assassins were a cover for this. To hide its noise with their hunting wails." 

Buffy nodded, tilting her head as she tried to hear. "It can't be two places at once. We'll separate- go from opposite sides. Whichever one of us it doesn't stop has to stop the Watcher from finishing the ritual." Kat nodded and they dashed away, Buffy to the right and Kat to the left.   
  


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"Why isn't anything coming? They should know that Buffy and the rest are inside by now, right?" 

Giles didn't take his eyes from the battle raging within the sphere. "I don't know Willow. Maybe they have instructions not to come down here, so they don't disturb the ritual. The sphere seems to hold sound, maybe they're not aware we're here yet." 

Willow winced as a wraith-like demon tore a strip from Buffy's side. "It doesn't make sense." 

Xander stopped his pacing along the sphere's barrier for a moment to shoot Willow a glance of warning. "Just be grateful and don't wish for anything to come." 

Wesley glanced toward Giles. "I've heard of The Unspoken. They're not known to be great fighters, though they fight well. They're more famous as demon assassins because they can suck a demon's life force. Why would they choose them to stand guard? Wouldn't a warrior type demon be of more use as a guard?" 

Willow frowned. "Maybe they used them for some other reason. What do they do?" 

"They surround a demon and torture it if they can. Their voices alone can cause most species of demon great pain. They're well known for their hunting cries. Some creatures can die from the sound alone." 

Giles looked at Wesley, his brow furrowed with thought. "Perhaps they're merely a distraction? To cover something else?" 

Wesley shook his head, his eyes glued to the sphere. "I haven't the faintest idea." They fell silent for a moment. "Look! Only four are left, Buffy's going after Richard!" They watched as Buffy ran toward the Watcher. "Good Lord! What is that?" 

A thing made all of shadow and darkness unfolded its hulking length from the side of the sphere, where it had been well hidden in the shadows cast by the remnants of the wall. Giles called out uselessly to Buffy, but the girl couldn't hear him. The group stepped forward as one as Buffy flew backwards, her face contorting with pain. 

"What is she doing?!" Xander stood as close as possible to the sphere, his expression agonized. "She's walking right toward it!" She flew through the air again. 

Tara looked ready to cry. "She can't see it! Look, she's just standing there, looking for it!" They watched with the frustration of the impotent as Angel looked about helplessly for the creature before sending Kat to help Buffy. Small cries of dismay emerged from all their throats as the tiny slayer was lifted by her throat. They held their breath as one of her flailing legs connected powerfully with the creature's abdomen. It let her go, throwing its head back in pain. 

Giles face looked slightly more hopeful. "It feels pain. That's a good sign." 

Xander cursed. "What good does it do if they can't see it? Why can WE see it if they can't?" 

"Vampires!" They sent Tara a quick look of inquiry before turning their attention back to the circle. "The-they set up this sphere, made it so only vampires could get in. Then they pu-put these big evil noisemakers in there so the Slayers can't hear anything. Then right in front of the target they put a mo-monster-" 

"That none of them will be able to see." Xander watched in worry as the two Slayers sprinted around the edges of the circle in opposite directions. It was a good plan. But the creature was too fast. It darted forward and caught both slayers with one hand each, flinging them backwards and into each other with bone-crushing impact. They fell to the floor, groaning and shaking their heads as they tried to rise. The shadow-thing began to advance again on the dazed Slayers. "It's so strong." Xander's voice was a near whisper, tears in his eyes. He saw Spike and Angel finishing off their demons and running toward the girls, flung aside one by one to land in a heap a ways away from the Slayers. "It's keeping them alive. Intentionally. It doesn't want them dead!" 

Giles voice was breaking. "No. It wants them on the other side." He turned his attention to the still chanting Watcher. "And if something doesn't change soon, they will be." 

"It's not fair! They shouldn't be able to use something they can't see!" Cordelia's voice was shrill with panic. 

Wesley laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're right Cordelia, it's not fair." He left it unsaid that there was nothing they could do. 

Xander raised a gun in frustration, taking careful aim at the hulking mass of shadows. He fired. The bullet sped into the green light and ricocheted off with a metallic ping. Xander dove out of the way as the others did the same. "So much for that idea." He hated the gnawing sense of hopelessness and helplessness that was clawing its way through his chest. He was watching them fight and fail, and there was nothing he could do. Suddenly his eyes widened. He fell to his knees and bent his head, concentrating with every ounce of his energy.   
  
  
  


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Tears pricked the back of Buffy's eyes as she watched Angel fly through the air for a second time. She tried again to edge her way toward the Watcher, only to be stopped by something and sent sprawling to the floor. She tried to lash out but her questing hands found only air. Her body was a mass of crinkled burning skin and her nerves screamed with pain as she moved. She looked briefly toward the others, who weren't much better off. Her gaze sought her friends, whose hazy forms were barely distinguishable through the green glow of the sphere. She was glad she couldn't see their faces, glad she didn't have to see the horror in their eyes as she failed. She climbed again to her feet, watching as Kat and Angel did the same, Kat reaching a hand down and yanking Spike up, as he'd landed next to her on his last flight. 

Kat met Buffy's eyes and tried to smile. She saw defeat in the other girl's gaze and wondered if it was there in hers as well. Whatever they faced couldn't possibly be as big and unmovable as it seemed- but they couldn't see it, and couldn't seem to fight it without being able to see it. It moved almost soundlessly, even without the wailing of The Unspoken to hide its movements. It had no discernible smell. It had felt like flesh when she kicked it, but she hadn't managed to wound it since. She'd tried to go back through the circle to retrieve one of the swords, hoping a longer blade would help. But she couldn't get through. It seemed a one-way door. Easily in but not so out. She cursed herself for not having the foresight to bring those through as well as the smaller silver knives. There hadn't been enough gardenia to turn the sword blades silver too, so she'd thought them useless. She caught Buffy's eye again and motioned for them to try their feint again. Buffy nodded. They had no other option. Kat leaned over and told Spike what to do as well. Maybe with three, one could get close enough to silence the Watcher. She'd already tried throwing her knife. It had been intercepted. The thing really was damnably fast. She started to move than stumbled, dimly aware of Buffy doing the same thing. 

"It's on the right!" 

She shook her head, sending a look of surprised wariness toward Buffy. The other Slayer returned the look. A wordless question was asked and answered between them. They had both heard it. 

"Buffy! Kat! It's on the right. Like eight feet tall and nearly that long of a reach. No fangs or claws! It wants you alive! You can't see it 'cause you're vampires!" Kat's jaw dropped in astonishment, Buffy's mirroring hers. Xander! He shouldn't be able to do this! It took YEARS of training, and only one out of a hundred million were capable of telepathic communication- 

"Never mind what I'm capable of! Tell Angel to go after the Watcher, I'll tell you where the Demon is!" 

Buffy's face stretched into a slow grin as hope came back into her eyes. Kat's face mirrored hers. She turned to Angel, creeping over to where he was, Spike at her heels. The demon let them move, so long as they didn't move toward the Watcher. She leaned in close to the vampires. "Kat and I can hear Xander. He can see the demon. We're going to attack it. You two go after the Watcher." The men nodded. Kat crept back toward Buffy. The Slayers waited. 

"Okay, it's right in front of you. Wait till Angel and Spike go, when it turns go after its back." Kat nodded at Angel. He and Spike took off at a dead run. The Slayers heard a slight swish of movement and advanced toward it. 

"To your left! Kat, RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU! You're right in between its legs! Jump!" Kat leapt, feeling something solid beneath her hands. She searched for a handhold, groping upwards. Her hands tangled in something that felt like hair. She gripped hard and dug her feet into its back, reaching with one arm to wrap around its huge neck. She reached for her knife with her other arm, before realizing that she'd thrown it away. 

"Spike! Throw me your knife!" Without pausing he flung the blade at her. She caught it neatly and buried it between the demon's shoulder blades with a predatory smile. 

As soon as it felt Kat on its back the creature made its first audible noise. It rumbled in dismayed pain and lurched forward, sweeping Buffy aside with one long arm. The Slayer bounded back to her feet, able to tell where the demon was by Kat, who clung to nothingness as the thing lurched around. Buffy scrambled toward it, managing to avoid its arms and buried her own knife in its side. Twin rivers of blood ran from its back and side and the thing roared in pain. Buffy looked up at Kat. "Kat! The back of the neck!" As it bled the invisibility was fading, the huge demon flashing in and out of their sight. Kat complied, her face firmly set in its vampire visage. She yanked the knife from its back and slashed it viciously across the back of the neck, passing the blade through several times until the trunk-like neck was half severed. The demon gave a great roar of anger and bucked harshly, managing to fling a blood spattered Kat from its back. It roared and reached for her but collapsed on the way, fully visible and obviously dead. The Slayers traded a look of satisfaction, each a bit surprised to see that the other had shifted their faces into their vampire appearance. They shifted back in unison, looking away from one another. 

"Oh God. Buffy, Kat it's too late!" 

Xander's voice in their head was the essence of despair. They turned as one. Angel held the Watcher's book, ripping it viciously in half, his face fully vamped and full of fury. Spike held the man against his chest, one hand clamped over his mouth. Both of them had their backs to the center of the circle. Buffy's voice was soft and desperate. "No!" The Watcher was laughing, his whole body shaking in amusement. The green sphere disappeared, and a solid wall of light erupted from the center of the circle and rushed outwards in a rapidly spreading arc. Kat and Buffy were flung backwards, dimly seeing the same being done to Spike and Angel, the Watcher they held, and the group of friends who had stood outside. The light flashed like a bolt of white-hot lightning through her brain and Buffy screamed at the pain, hearing her cry echoed by others. She fought against the blackness that came rushing at her with all of her strength, but it wrapped itself around her and the world faded away. She slipped into unconsciousness.   
  


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"Let he who has called for an accounting offer up his proof." The booming voice jarred Kat from her senseless state. She opened her eyes slowly, the brilliant silver light sending shooting pains into her already fragile head. She groaned and sat up slowly, her mind disturbingly blank. She finally managed to open her eyes. She looked in astonishment at the center of the room. Looming impossibly large stood a giant silver scale. Perfectly balanced with trays the size of small moons, the size of the room around it seemed to have no limiting effect on the scale. It towered over her, imposing and impossibly gorgeous. A man stood on its right, tiny beside its bulk. She stared in confusion, racking her brain, trying to remember something behind the disturbing blankness of her memory. 

She saw the man, his face gleeful, flinging things into the scale. A tiny silver vial flew from his hand into the scale. She heard his high, nasal voice speak. "The blood of one who loved. Unprotected. Unrequited. Freely given in offering." 

It came back to her then, with dizzying, horrifying speed. She lurched to her feet, moving on shaky legs toward the man. He continued mouthing syllables, moving things into the scale. She recognized them dimly with some part of her brain. "The ashes of an immortal, freely given in offering. The blood of a man, freely given in offering." It went on and on. A catalogue of horrors offered by monsters of many varieties, to shift the world into one more to their liking. 

Kat shook her head to try to clear it as she again almost toppled. She couldn't understand what was wrong with her. She licked her lips, her voice croaking. "Buffy." The other Slayer didn't stir and the rest still lay in blissful senselessness. She tried again, louder. "Buffy!" Finally the blonde Slayer stirred, her movements as sluggish as Kat's, her eyes as fogged. "Buffy. The ritual. We have to stop him. . ." Her voice trailed off as recognition slowly lit in the other Slayer's eyes. She began to push herself up. Kat walked away, forcing herself closer to the scale, whose throbbing energy sent waves of pain and nausea through her body. She saw Angel stirring from his place beyond the Watcher, Spike beside him. She thought hard, trying to use her meager mind-talents to awaken Xander. "Xander! Wake up!! We'll need you!" No response. She prayed silently that he was still alive. 

She staggered toward Richard, who saw her coming. His smile was manic. "Too late Slayer! The scales are being weighed!" He began to laugh again, no trace of sanity left in his face. 

Kat moaned in dismay. The giant scale was shifting, the side closest to Richard dropping with stately slowness while the other side rose. The voice spoke again. "Proof has been offered. No one offers for the other side. The Balance will shift." The shining silver scale began to shift, its shine turning dark, its color turning black. Kat saw Angel try to stand and fall back down. She saw Spike push himself to his feet, swaying. His eyes fixed on the howling Watcher. She saw Buffy from the corner of her eyes, lurching toward her. Then the world slowed to a crawl, and she screamed and fell to her knees and saw nothing.   
  


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Spike felt tears run down his cheeks as Kat fell to her knees, Buffy a moment behind her. The screams they made were unearthly, inhuman and ungodly. The screams of souls being ripped apart and unspeakable pain. Fury raced through him as the Watcher danced about, his face a study in madness, the hyena laughter braying forth from his mouth in an unending stream. Spike pushed himself forward and grabbed the man by his collar, his face vamped and his yellow eyes glittering with danger. "Undo it." 

The man chittered, his grin still in place. "Can't be undone! The sacrifices are made, the ritual performed, and no one here to play for the other team! Too late! Too late! They lost!" 

Spike growled in frustration and flung the man away from him in disgust. He pulled Angel to his feet and started toward the shaking Slayers, knowing there was nothing left to do. He went and stood in front of Kat, looking down with overwhelming regret at the Slayer.   
  


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The bars of the demon's cage melted and it flung itself, howling in triumph at the edges of her mind. Kat clung desperately to the vestiges of herself, feeling her strength slipping away, the urge to give in growing with every passing second. Behind her she felt Buffy doing the same. She felt the other girl fighting. She felt them both losing. 

Cares began to fade away. She looked the demon in its eyes and saw what she'd always known but never understood. There was no difference between it and her. She was both of them. The demon was just what she could be if she gave up her conscience, her fight, and her soul. The cage had never locked in a demon. It had locked away the carelessness and evil within herself. And now the line between them was disappearing, growing ever thinner with every moment that she cared less and less about the consequences. 

She forced it back again, for a moment, feeling her resolve weaken. A dim memory flitted on the edge of her thoughts. She focused on it. A spell, long ago learned and filed away, never used. She pushed with all her strength and earned a second of clear thought. She hesitated, her thoughts turning to Buffy. She felt the other Slayer fighting. Buffy was stronger than her. She would still lose, but she had a better chance. This was the only way. With dry tongue and mumbled pronunciation, she uttered the words to a spell she'd never thought she'd need. 

She felt it begin to work, felt her soul gathering itself. She reached with all the power of her desperate mind and shouted as best she could. "XANDER!! Tell Spike! Give him a STAKE! Wake up!!" And then the spell took hold and she slipped away with a sigh of relief, and the demon burst into the center of her mind with a growl of feral satisfaction sounding her fanged mouth. She opened yellow eyes and stared into the gaze of a platinum haired vampire who stared back in utter confusion. 

**************************************************************************** 

Buffy heard Kat scream, her mind still fogged, her thoughts slow. She watched as the giant scale began to change and comprehension came in a sudden horrified rush. She stepped forward, determined to do something, when time stood still and a gout of tearing pain and black oblivion overcame her. She dropped to her knees and screamed. 

She felt her cares slipping away, her friends, her love, herself. They all began to tear away in a painful group. She held on fiercely, the pain blinding. She couldn't let them go. Tears leaked from her eyes and her clenched teeth bit through her own lips. The flow of blood incensed the other side of her more. It battered her, demanding release, demanding surrender. She held on, pushed it back. She fought, her strength slowly fading as that other side of her began a slow climb to victory. It changed its tactic, cajoling instead of demanding. Offering her peace, immortality, joy. An end to the indecision, to the struggle. She sobbed but ignored it, pushing away its images of her and Angel, arm in arm while the world around them burned. She realized how far she was slipping when the idea looked so desperately appealing to her. She rallied and fought on until her mind grew weary and her strength began to fade. For the first time, she realized she couldn't win, and with a surge of sorrow and relief, she began to let go. 

She felt it all slipping away, all the concerns all the cares. She felt herself disappearing, becoming small and lost. There was no fear, no worry, only relief and a sense of finality. As she slid further away she felt something change. A surge of strength coursed through her, urging her to continue to fight. A new presence, one tinged with familiarity. She would have recognized it, had she taken the energy to do so. Instead she began to climb back out, this new presence beckoning, aiding, fighting with her, giving her added knowledge. Flashes of information and experience not her own ran on quick rabbit feet through her mind, disappearing before it could be caught. She began to fight again, her emotions an odd mix of relief and resentment. The new strength fought with her, and for a moment, it seemed they could win. Hope came flooding back, and with it came her resolve and her desire to win. Recognition came as well, as the presence in her mind became more than familiar to her. It felt like it belonged. She acknowledged it, not knowing she spoke aloud in a dry mouthed croak. "Katerina?" She opened her eyes as the voice that was and was not her own told her what she had to do. She pushed herself to her feet, nearly stumbling into someone in her clumsy hurry. As she struggled to retain control she lurched toward the scale, knowing this was the last chance she would have.   
  


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"Xander! Wake up!! We'll need you!" The worlds sounded distant. As if his own mind was detached from his body. He sat up, his body feeling bruised and broken in places he didn't even know he had. He winced, than instantly regretted it as his whole body shuddered in pain. He held himself perfectly still, waiting for the nausea and lightheadedness to fade. When it did, the words he'd heard in his mind came back to him and he opened his eyes wide, his brain coming quickly clear. 

He took in the gleaming silver scale, saw his friends laying in heaps around him, unconscious and battered. He stood painfully, his legs feeling like overcooked spaghetti. He squinted against the scale's light and looked to where Kat moved in odd lurching steps toward the Watcher, Buffy gaining her feet a few steps behind. He watched Angel try to rise and fall, Spike managing to find his feet a moment later. The Watcher laughed and danced around. He seemed crazed. Xander's eyes widened and a soft cry escaped his mouth as the scale began to change, turn dark. He saw Kat fall to her knees, Buffy a moment behind her, both clutching their heads and screaming. The sound of the screams sent chills up his spin. Without thinking, he started toward them, nearly falling at the first step. 

He reached Buffy first. She seemed caught in some struggle he couldn't see. He was afraid to touch her, afraid it would distract her from whatever she was fighting within her own mind. He looked at Kat, who knelt in the same position. He looked back at the rest of them, who were beginning to stir. He knew there was nothing he could do for them. He turned to Buffy and watched as Spike grabbed the Watcher by the collar. He said something to him and the man chittered back. Xander closed his eyes, trying to gauge the slim man's thoughts. He winced as he heard the man's mind. Thought whirled wildly and randomly around. The spell seemed to have made him truly crazy. He opened his eyes again as Spike threw the man aside. He helped Angel stand and they all stared at the Slayers as they fought a battle they couldn't win. 

"XANDER!! Tell Spike! Give him a STAKE! Wake up!!" The wild power of the thought in his head nearly made him fall over. He looked to Kat, who still knelt in trembling pain. He pushed him mind into hers, trying to see what she was thinking. This time he DID fall over as the pain and strength of what fought within her hit him. Even second-hand and accidental, the force was stunning. He pushed himself back to his knees, knowing now what she wanted. He pulled a stake out of his pocket and threw it to Spike, who had come to stand before the kneeling girl Slayer. 

"Spike! Kat said to give you this!" 

The vampire caught it and looked completely confused. Xander opened his mouth to speak when he saw Kat's tense body relax. Her heard a faint growl and saw Spike's confused gaze snap downward. Xander jumped to his feet and watched fearfully. At his feet, Buffy's trembling form croaked out a word he couldn't understand. The trembling stopped and her eyes began to open. He stared in wide-eyed wonder at the clear green gaze that barely seemed to see him. "Buffy?" She lurched to her feet and stumbled by him without hearing, nearly knocking him over.   
  
  
  


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Spike stared down at a face both familiar and utterly unknown. A vampire looked back, wearing Katerina's body. Yellow eyes and fangs. His heart lurched in his chest and his eyes filled with horror. "No." He whispered, the stake he held seemingly made of pure fire, burning its way through his hand. 

The vampire's smile faded, its fangs hidden now. Its face shifted back into the visage of the girl he knew. He stared into its eyes and a jolt went through him. They were blue. Clear sky blue. She smiled seductively and he pulled the stake back. Her smile faded and she began to move, an entreaty shining in her eyes. "Spike . . . no. Imagine what we could be now!" The voice was still hers, so was the slim hand that laid itself against his leg, the arm it was attached to still burnt and battered from the fight. She looked up at him helplessly, knowing she couldn't move fast enough to avoid him. 

Tears leaked from his eyes and his hands trembled. "My Kitten." He reached down and gently ran his hand through her hair. "My friend." She smiled, a hint of triumph playing around her lips. 

He plunged the stake deep into her chest. She stared at him in shock, her face shifting. For just a minute, her eyes flashed a dull silver and her fanged mouth smiled faintly . "Thank you." She looked past him for a moment and her smile saddened. Then the eyes went yellow again and the fanged mouth opened in a growling scream. He yanked the stake back and she exploded in a cloud of dust. Spike fell to his knees and wept.   
  
  
  


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Angel watched in near slow motion as time slowed and he saw Kat look up at Spike through the yellow eyes of a vampire. Words wouldn't come. He wanted to scream, wanted to run a stake through her heart . . . wanted to yank Spike away before he did the same thing. He saw her face shift. In this moment, he saw for the first time how beautiful she was. Untouched by the concerns and worries that had plagued her for the whole of her long life, her small face was utterly lovely, and completely alien to the woman he knew. Blue eyes stared at Spike and a dull pain shot through Angel's chest. He saw his grandchilde's hand move, knew what was coming. He wanted to shut his eyes, but he couldn't look away. He watched the stake drive deep into her chest, saw her startled face shift. 

And then the yellow eyes went silver, just for a moment. He saw her smile, saw her mouth form words, but he couldn't understand them. Then her eyes moved, settled on him. Her smile was sad, a wordless apology. He wanted to run to her. To say he was sorry. To beg his friend to not let it end this way. He did nothing. There was no time. She exploded in a cloud of dust. He pushed away the tears that threatened and watched with envy as Spike wept. 

The Watcher shrieked in fury. "No!!! The Slayers can't die!!!" He flung himself forward, a stake in his hand. He moved more quickly than Angel would have expected, his hands extended toward Spike's unprotected back. Angel lunged forward, knowing with dread certainty that he would be too late, and surprised that he was pained by that knowledge. 

Angel's eyes widened in surprise as Spike turned with a blinding quickness Angel had forgotten he possessed. He stopped the man with one hand, yanking the stake from his grasp. His face was fully shifted and his tear-stained expression dark with fury. "This is your fault, slimy Bastard." With an effortless shove he drove the man's own stake deep into his belly. The Watcher fell back, gurgling in pain, blood seeping from his mouth and from the wound in his belly. Both vampires watched him without sympathy. After a moment Angel looked up and his eyes locked with Spike's. Slowly comprehension dawned as he looked from Spike's pain free face to the human body bleeding on the ground.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************** 

Buffy stepped closer to the still shifting scale, green eyes filled with pain as she fought back the darker half of herself. For a moment, she felt that other presence within her fade, and the demon battered harder against her suddenly weakened defenses. Then it was back, stronger, more coherent than before. It stood between Buffy and the other side, taking the pain from her. Buffy's vision cleared and her thoughts began to function again. She turned her head in time to see Spike drive a stake through Kat's chest. Her eyes widened as moments later the other Slayer exploded into dust. The voice in her head spoke, its voice nearly indistinguishable from her own now. Buffy reached out with one hand, seizing a stray handful of the ashes. With trembling hands she flung them into the rising side of the massive scale. She licked her lips, speaking words she hadn't known before Kat invaded her being. "The ashes of an immortal, freely given in offering." She threw another handful, her cheeks wet with tears. "The life of the Chosen, freely given in offering." 

The voice spoke again within her mind. She tried to rebel against it, but it was insistent. She gave in with a sigh. She ripped off a corner of her shirt and turned to Spike who had crept up beside her. Without a word she grasped him by his arm and bit down hard. He cursed and jerked his arm away, staring at her fearfully. She ignored him, daubing his arm with the torn cloth and muttering distracted "Sorry." She flung the cloth into the scale. "The blood of one who loves. Protected. Unrequited, freely given in offering." She turned to the other side, saw Xander, already standing there, his arm bleeding and held out toward her. She tried to smile at him, but her battling mind couldn't manage the expression correctly. She tore off another strip of her shirt and wiped it in the blood, glad he'd wounded himself so she didn't have to. She flung the cloth into the scale. "The blood of a man, freely given in offering" 

The scale ceased its shifting, its color stopping its slow change. The voice spoke again, the one Kat had heard in the beginning. "The other side has offered. The scales will be weighed." The plates hovered, sinking and rising as a hum began to fill the room. 

The voice spoke again. "The Balance will be maintained." With a roar of sound the scales returned to their silver shimmer, the plates hanging even. As they watched in stunned fascination, the massive scale began to shift its shape. The huge plates began to shift, shrink into the shape of hands, the silver chains that they hung from took on the shape of slim arms. The center twisted into a human torso and the foot became a pair of legs. The engraved top transformed into a head. In a moment where the scales had been stood a huge, unearthly silver woman, her eyes covered by a golden cloth, the only thing on her large form that was not silver. She spoke, her voice the same one that had spoken since the scales first appeared. "The Scales have been tested. Do not call for a reckoning until another thousand years have passed into dust. We will wait and we will judge. None will remain who witnessed the Balancing." 

A fresh rush of pain filled Buffy's mind as the demon fell back with a sudden raking weakness. The other voice in her mind disappeared with it, and she felt its loss. The silver figure raised its arms and disappeared in a thunder clap of sound. A wall of solid fire blew outward from where she had been, enveloping all those who watched in its burning depths.   
  


******************************************************************************   
  


"No!" Willow looked to where Xander stood, Buffy standing beside him, her eyes staring sightlessly at the massive Scales. Willow racked her brain desperately trying to remember a way to stop this. She thought of nothing. She saw Spike's arm flash downward, and watched in horrified confusion as Katerina burst into ashes. "Oh God. Wake up. Get up. We have to do something." She pushed and prodded at the others until they were all at least sitting up. Tara climbed to her feet, leaning slightly on Willow for support. The two witches watched in confusion as Buffy began flinging handfuls of ashes into the rising side of the scales. "What is she doing?" Buffy was speaking, though they could barely heard the words. 

Tara watched intently, sudden comprehension dawning on her face. "She's balancing the scales. Offering the same as what th-the Watcher offered." 

"Will it work?" Giles voice came from behind them. His glasses were cracked and broken, and he still looked disoriented. 

"I don't know." They watched as Buffy finished her offerings and the scale stopped its shift. "I think maybe it has." Tara's voice was excited. 

"Wait!" The anxiousness in Cordelia's turn snapped everyone's attention toward her. The brunette continued, her eyes trained on Buffy. "I saw this. In my vision. It was different. The Scales become a-" 

A booming voice interrupted her. "The other side has offered. The scales will be weighed" 

Cordelia caught their attention again. "It becomes a giant black woman and then there's fire. In my vision, something protected Kat and Buffy and me. Something . . . .evil. If they're not on the bad guys' side, then they won't be protected and neither will we. We're going to burn." 

Willow and Tara traded a quick glance and then joined hands, not taking the time to doubt Cordelia's words. They quickly began chanting. An aura of power rose around them, reaching out to surround the rest of them. It began edging its way slowly toward where Buffy stood with Xander, Spike, and Angel. 

Giles watched in fear. The voice spoke again, the scales gone. A huge silver figure in its place, its eyes covered by a flash of gold. "The Scales have been tested. Do not call for a reckoning until another thousand years have passed into dust. We will wait and we will judge. None will remain who witnessed the Balancing." A crash of thunder sounded in his ears and the figure disappeared. A solid wall of force and fire reached out for him and he felt himself flying backwards beneath a weight of searing heat. He lost consciousness again, silently praying that Willow and Tara's protection would work, and that it had reached the others in time.   
  


______________________________________________________________________________ 


	18. Epilogue

  
  


### **Part Seventeen:**

### **Epilogue**

###### "Suddenly --

###### You were gone

###### From all the lives

###### You left your mark upon"

###### --Rush "Afterimage"

  
  


He awoke to silence. After the noise and fury of the fight and the sizzling sound of the fire, the silence was unwelcome, eerie. He opened his eyes slowly, afraid of what he'd see. The place that met his searching gaze was cool, empty. An arched doorway with white pillars stood directly in front of him, a bubbling fountain at his back. A haze of cool pleasant mist surrounded the room, which defied description. It was both indoors and out, large and small. He pushed himself to his feet, a strange familiarity tickling his mind. He'd been here before. 

"Yes. You have." He blinked and looked up. Two figures stood in the arched doorway. Familiar figures with blue-tinted skin and white robes. Male and female, they stood side by side, similar enough to be twins, yet the difference in their natures was apparent. He recognized them. The oracles. The DEAD oracles. 

"But you're dead." 

The female smiled. "Yes." 

He digested that a moment. "Am I dead?" 

The male laughed. "You've been dead for two hundred years or so, haven't you?" 

"You know what I mean." 

The female shook her head. "No Angelus. You are as alive as you ever were. As are they." She gestured widely. He spun to see the unconscious bodies of his friends laying around the room. His eyes lingered on Buffy. Her charred skin was healed, her torn clothes restored. She looked like she was simply asleep. 

Angel turned back to the Oracles. "Will they wake up?" 

The female smiled. "Yes" She turned to her brother and spoke softly. He walked forward, bending to touch each of the sleeping people on their foreheads. One by one they opened their eyes and sat up, except Buffy, who still lay in a state of senseless sleep. Giles was the first to stand, Xander a moment behind him. Only Spike remained sitting, his dark eyes glancing searchingly around. Angel looked away. He knew what Spike was searching for, and already knew she wasn't here. 

"Who-who are you?" Giles spoke, absently cleaning his glasses on his collar, realizing after a moment that they were no longer broken. He placed them back on his face, his expression surprised and wary. 

"We are the Oracles." 

Giles studied them carefully. "The figures from Buffy's vision?" The female nodded. "Where are we? What has happened?" 

The female spoke, her brother standing beside her, his face distracted and ambivalent. "The Slayers managed to restore the Balance. We are impressed. We had thought it was lost there at the last. We did not anticipate the sacrifice of Twilight." 

"What happened exactly? We saw that Spike was forced to eh-dispose of Katerina, but we know so little of what really went on." Wesley tried to avoid looking at Spike, whose face had darkened at the mention of Katerina's end. 

"When the scales began to shift, the natures of the Slayers began to change. Because they were also vampires, the vampire nature began to take over. They fought against the shift, but it was a losing battle, and they both knew it. Katerina knew of a spell of possession and made use of it." 

Willow glared at the Oracle, tired of her cryptic half answers. "What spell, and HOW did she use it?" 

The female stared into the redheaded witch's eyes. After a moment Willow looked away, her cheeks faintly pink. The Oracle smiled. "Demons use spells of possession to inhabit a human host, take over their body. Katerina had learned the spell by accident centuries ago, when such spells were in more common use. She used that spell to preserve her own soul and inhabit Buffy's body. Their combined strength was strong enough to hold back the shift for long enough for Buffy to counter the ritual. It was not the way things had been anticipated. But it was effective. The Balance is preserved for another thousand years. This time's Reader and Seer have survived. The Slayers accomplished their task. As did our other Warriors." She nodded toward Angel and then smiled at Spike. The blonde vampire blinked in surprise and his sullen expression gave way to one of sheer horror. 

Xander stared at Buffy's still form. "So Buffy is possessed by Kat now?" 

The Oracle shook her head. "Yes and no. It is . . . . an interesting effect. And a long story." 

Xander turned to the Oracle, resolve in every line of his face. "We love long stories. Can't get enough of them." 

The female smiled but the male's apathy shifted to annoyance. "It is not for mortals and lesser forms to know the workings of The Powers, or the truths that lie behind this." 

Xander opened his mouth to protest when the female laid a calming hand on her brother's shoulder. "Peace brother. These have fought and suffered and served. It is their right to know." 

He glared at her. "Be it on your head then. Those above us will not be pleased." 

She laughed, the sound bearing an alien, hair-raising element. "Let them fume. We have righted their mistakes. They know that well." The male nodded curtly and stepped through the doorway, disappearing from their view. The female watched him go, a wry smile twisting her lips. She settled herself onto the step at the doorway's base, surprising them all by sitting. She gave them a more genuine, if inhuman smile. "Even within these halls and in our blood, power is contested. My brother is younger and weaker than I, and fears the displeasure of those who rule us. He will learn in time." 

Tara looked surprised. "Your kind ages?" 

The Oracles smiled. "Not to your eyes. But nothing is immortal, and nothing remains always the same." 

Spike finally stood, his stance aggressive. "This is all well and good, but you haven't told us a single bloody thing. What's going to happen when Buffy wakes up and has Kat pinging around in her brain? And where are we? And finally, who in the bloody hell are you?" 

Angel spoke, his annoyance with the vampire apparent. "They're the Oracles. They were kill-" 

"Sorry mate, but I don't remember asking you a thing. So sod off and let the lady speak her mind." Spike was digging through his pockets for a cigarette. His face turned mournful when he failed to find one. Angel's expression darkened and he looked on the verge of retorting when the Oracle spoke. 

"We are called the Oracles. We are the physical presence of a higher power on this world. Your kind and others' connection to the higher powers. We guide them and help them, if we so choose. Because we must exist in physical form on this world, we are subject to injury and death, like all other creatures. An enemy of Angel's killed our physical bodies, robbing this world of its link to the higher Powers." She smiled at Angel. "Our favored warrior managed to avenge us, but it was too late to save us. We lost our place here, and the Balance became precarious, as the other side still retained their link to their Powers. When the Balance was restored, our side was allowed a concession, and we regained our physical forms and our entryway. This place is our gateway to your world." 

"So there are other Oracles? For the bad guys?" Cordelia seemed worried by that concept. 

The Oracle nodded at the seer. "Yes. And no. Good and evil, bad and rightous; these do not exist in our plane. Here, the forces have taken on sides and personas, and those we stand with have come to represent the forces of 'good' as you view them, while our opposites stand with those you call 'evil.' In truth we are neither. Those we oppose have their own links to their superiors who serve the same function for them as we do here." 

"What exactly are you and those who are with you then? What do you stand for?" Wesley asked the question, his expression fascinated. Spike looked bored and kept sighing heavily as he waited for the answers to questions he cared about. 

"At their heart, the forces have no alignment. They are, in their simplest forms Order and Chaos. Those you call evil aid the cause of Chaos. We stand for Order." The Oracle's expression turned thoughtful. "In truth both sides have committed acts that can be considered good and ones that are evil." She smiled. "This world has corrupted us. We find we are fond of doing good and helping those in need now. We are no longer impartial to anything but the Order." 

Spike opened his mouth again but Giles beat him to it. The vampire glared at him, knowing the older man was dying for some way to write all this information down. "And the Scale? It is impartial?" 

"The scale has no physical form, save when it is summoned. It exists between the planes, measuring the forces and keeping all in Balance. When it summons it appears as The Blind. It has gone by many names over the millennia, often called the Blind God of Justice. Nothing can sway it save Truth, offered as evidence." 

Spike managed to interrupt before either of the information-hungry Watchers could ask more questions. "And what about Buffy? What's going to happen? What did Kat do?" 

The Oracle sighed. "A Slayer is both a natural being and a creation of the Powers. They're ordained warriors. In the beginning there was only one. In time, more became necessary for various reasons. The souls of a Slayer were different than those of normal man. Stronger, more primal. They are . . . difficult to craft. Once one is created it lives again and again. It is mixed with various personalities and bits of things that create a different person each time, but at its essence, each Slayer lives hundreds of lifetimes as a Warrior." She gestured toward Buffy. "You're Slayer may have lived a thousand times before. She and Katerina were among the strongest of their kind, experience made them stronger. When Katerina chose to become a vampire, she became stronger still. The vampire mixed with the Slayer and created a being never before seen with any success." She looked toward the prone slayer. "But she lost as well. With the mix of vampire and slayer, a bit of her was lost. That part, call it a part of her spirit perhaps, left her. But this separate floating piece was still, at its heart, a slayer. Though it was weak now. Over time this part was retooled, re-mixed, and recreated. It became a Slayer again, gaining in strength until it was as strong as the Slayer it had come from, and finally it was stronger." The Oracle's alien gaze flicked across Angel and Spike. "That spirit was reborn- as Buffy." 

Mouths fell open. "What? How is that possible? How can a soul be reborn when its original is still alive?" Wesley was flustered. 

"They're alike in ways yes, but they are not the same person in anyway. It simply doesn't add up." Giles was more angry than flustered. 

The Oracle held up her hand. "No. They are not the same person. Buffy is far different. But at heart, they are made from the same essence. When Katerina performed the possession spell, her soul entered Buffy's body. When Buffy became a vampire, the same thing happened. Part of her spirit or soul, whatever you wish to call it, left. Had things continued as they were, you would have noticed great changes in her. She would still be the woman you knew, but there would be greater changes in her than just silver eyes. When Katerina joined with her, the two souls merged, knowing they belonged together. Separate they were strong." She regarded them solemnly. "Together, they are equal to more than their parts." 

Angel shook his head slowly. "So . . . both of them are in there?" 

The Oracle looked saddened. "Katerina's spirit was already weakening when she performed the spell. She was tired and had lived a long life with very little hope to sustain her. She knew Buffy was stronger than she, and so gave up her physical form and entered Buffy. She did not know what would happen, that they would merge. Buffy was much stronger, and she . . . took in Katerina. In time, Buffy may gain Katerina's memories, her training. But Katerina as an individual entity no longer exists." 

Willow blinked tears from her eyes. "Will-does . . .does Buffy know? Will she remember?" 

The Oracle raised her hands helplessly. "That is up to you." 

Spike looked up, his face a study in misery. "What do you mean?" 

"Buffy sleeps still because I keep her that way. She can hear us, but sleeps still. I can awaken her with the memory or without. It is your decision. She will know that Katerina is gone, and she will remember that Katerina's spirit aided her in the battle. But she can be ignorant of the rest, if you feel it will be easier for her." 

Eight heads instantly shook. Giles spoke for them all. "She would want to know." They nodded in agreement. 

The Oracle nodded in assent. "She will awaken when she returns to your world then." She rose, her white robes flowing about her as she moved. "My brother is not here to frown and demand, so I will offer you something I am not usually capable of. You have served us well and your time is not nearly over. You are necessary for the future, but in thanks for this, I can grant you reward. What is it you desire?" 

Angel looked over, his face startled, almost frightened. The Oracle smiled. "No dark one, you've not yet earned your humanity. But if there is a lesser thing I can grant, than ask." 

Spike spoke up. "Bring her back." 

The Oracle looked startled. "It cannot be done." 

"Bollocks. You can bring her back if you want to, you just won't." 

The Oracle studied him. "Yes. I could. If I chose. Tell me, do you want me to? You're Buffy is stronger now than before. She will survive where no others would have. The parts of her that were lost in the Change have been replaced, and she will no longer change much from the woman you know. She may even become a bit more like your Katerina. If I brought Katerina back, both would be weaker." 

"I don't care if she's crawling around on her knees like a bloody infant. Bring her back. We can MAKE her strong again." 

The Oracle stepped toward him, her inhuman gaze staring through his. "Would she have wanted that?" He winced and looked away. "Your Kat was weary. She had fought for too long. She longed for rest. You know that." 

Spike sighed. "Yeah, I know." 

"I can give you something else." 

He stared at her, then stepped forward to whisper in her ear. She looked startled, then laughed. "I cannot grant what you've already earned. Have faith in yourself. Our warriors are not randomly chosen." 

His face fell as she again called him a warrior. "Bloody hell." 

The Oracle turned, still smiling. "You're time is running out. There are others who need speak with me. What will the rest of you ask?" 

Cordelia cleared her throat nervously. "Lindsey Macdonald you ah-know him right?" The Oracle nodded. "He saved my life. I know you can't bring Kat back or anything, but maybe . . . Lindsey's not a slayer. Maybe you could give him another chance." 

The Oracle shook her head. "And have his act of redemption be meaningless? No. Lindsey has already moved on. He will be given another chance at life. He earned a fresh start with that final act." 

Spike glared at the Oracle's back. "These rewards bloody well suck so far." 

Xander glared at him and stepped forward, bringing her eyes to him. "What about Buffy? What if she asks for her humanity back. Will you grant that?" 

She frowned. "She is stronger now as a vampire. And she has more strength now to master the darker side of herself." She hesitated. "But she and Katerina have given much of themselves. Yes. If she truly desires that, I will grant it." 

"So wake her up and ask." 

The Oracle laughed again. "I will ask her at alone later, when she has had more time to realize all that has happened. When Xander frowned she gave him a surprisingly tender smile. "Be still little Reader. You have much to learn in a short time, you're powers will soon amaze even you." She glanced around at the rest of them. "Perhaps I will simply give what I feel has been earned, as time is running short and none of you seem to know what you desire." She glanced backwards at the door. Farewell my warriors. I suspect we will meet again." 

"Wait!" Angel stepped forward. "I know what I want." 

The Oracle faded back toward the door. "Your reward has already been chosen." 

"No! I want this. I want to say goodbye." 

She looked back at his stricken expression and smiled once more. "It is already done, another reward given, as you will soon discover. But do not lose hope." She vanished through the doorway. They turned to face one another as the mist grew deeper they strained to see one another before giving up as a strange lethargy overtook them. As one, they lay down on the cool ground and slept.   
  


******************************************************************************   
  


Rough hands shook him awake. "What's the matter with you people? Can't you read the no trespassing signs? Get outta here before I decide to haul all of you in." Angel blinked and sat up, looking around him in puzzlement. He jumped to his feet as the policeman in front of him glared at him. Suddenly the man looked at him, than around the room, where the rest of them were sitting up, groaning. He took in the tattered clothes and wounded bodies. There was no sign of the renegade Watcher's body. It must have been incinerated when the fire burned. Nothing else seemed to have burned though. It must have been meant to burn only flesh. The cop looked astounded and faintly fearful. "Jesus, what the hell happened here?" 

Angel smiled at the man. "Nothing officer. Just a slumber party." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, he slid the man a fifty dollar bill, knowing the Sunnydale's crack police squad from memory. 

The cop smiled at him. "Anything you say, man. Just make sure you're all cleared out of here by morning. Construction crews coming by to start cleaning work. Turning this place into some kind of museum or something." The cop turned and left. 

Angel looked around carefully, seeing everyone else pulling themselves carefully to their feet. They were scattered haphazardly around the room, blown there by the final blast. He moved carefully toward Buffy, who was only just beginning to stir. He reached down and carefully pulled her to her feet. She groaned and gripped her sides, her closed eyes squinted with pain. "Are you alright? Buffy?" Her eyes opened and she smiled up at him. 

A gasp of surprise escaped his lips as he looked into her eyes. They were blue. Clear sky blue. And through them looked Katerina, her lips twisted in a smile that was wholly her own, even though it was on Buffy's lips. "Goodbye Angel." The Oracle had granted his request anyway. 

He pulled her close in a fierce, tight hug. "Oh God Kat. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I was wrong to blame you. I know it now, I knew it then. I was just afraid-" 

"Shhhh." Her voice was muffled against his collar. "It's alright. I forgive you and I understand. You were always my friend Angelus, even when you were being a stubborn ass." He felt her grin, though he couldn't see it. "And I will always love you for that. I'm sorry I took Buffy from you." 

"You didn't. I know that now. And I forgive you for anything." 

Her arms tightened around him for a moment, nearly cracking his ribs. "Tell Spike thank you. And tell them all goodbye." She pushed herself away from him and he met her blue eyes again, her lips still smiling. "The history books already forgotten Angel. I'd like to think someone remembered The Eternal Twilight." Her smile turned wry as she used the title she'd grown to loathe centuries ago. 

He smiled back, tears finally falling from his eyes. "I never knew her. But as long as I'm alive, someone always will remember Katerina." 

A single tear rolled down her face, and for that moment he didn't see Buffy. He only saw her. "Goodbye Angel." 

His voice was a whisper. "Goodbye Kat." 

The blue eyes closed and her body went slack for a moment. Then the eyes opened again and he stared into the familiar green of Buffy's gaze. "A-Angel?" 

He caught her as her knees went weak, sobs rising up from her throat and tears wetting his jacket. He cried too, and sent a silent thanks to the Oracle, who'd granted him his goodbye, and to Kat, who'd given him back his green eyed Slayer. He looked up to see Spike watching them, pain, frustration, worry, and sorrow mixing in his face. He met Angel's eyes and Angel spoke. "She said thank you. And goodbye." 

Spike nodded and walked away. Angel looked back down. Buffy's voice came to him, muffled and hiccuping. "She's gone Angel. I could feel her there while I- and now she's gone. There's just me." 

He held her. "You remember what the Oracles said to all of us?" 

She nodded. "Ye-yes." 

They didn't say anything else. The other's gathered around them, and nothing more needed to be said. Together, they began making their way out of the destroyed building. 

Suddenly Buffy looked up, her gaze searching. "Where's Spike?" They looked, but no one saw him. Angel's eyes darkened and Xander paled. They shared a glance, each realizing that the other knew the truth. 

Spike was gone. And so was his chip.   
  
  
  


****************************************************************************** 

The two men shifted nervously in front of the altar. Two figures stood in robes atop the altar, one male one female, their blue-skinned arms at their sides. The female spoke. "We are, of course, disappointed. We had high hopes for this project. Mr. Macdonald proved a gross disappointment to us." 

The male spoke. "You should have informed us of his treachery immediately. It was suspected, but not guaranteed. Instead you chose to send a vampire and a squad of humans to the home of a Watcher where two slayers were. A grave error in judgement." 

One of the humans spoke. "They did manage to eliminate Lindsey." 

The male sneered. "Yes Mr. Stanchon, after he'd managed to tell them enough to ruin our plans entirely." The male turned to his sister as the lawyers fiddled nervously in front of them. 

The female spoke again. "This . . . error in your judgement will be overlooked. I trust you will see to Holland Manners? The man is a valuable asset, and we do not want to lose him. But his error in bringing young Mr. Macdonald into our circle caused the downfall of this affair. Some form of punishment is in order." 

Lee Stanton nodded hastily. "Of course . . . I'll see to it personally." 

"Excellent." The male consulted his sister again. "And the Initiative files Agent Graham brought you. You used them to deactivate the chip of the vampire who follows the Slayer?" 

Lee turned his eyes to Matt Cronberg, who nodded. Lee looked back to the robed figures. "Yes. It's already been done." 

"This is good." The female silenced her brother with one hand when he started to speak. "There is another Slayer. We've used her in the past. We wish her released from prison. Use all the favors owed this law firm to see it done." 

Matt cleared his throat nervously. "Forgive me, but that may not be the best choice. This Slayer has already turned against us once. She is seeking redemption and is no longer working on our side of the divide." 

The female smiled. "Do as you're told Mr. Cronberg, and spare us all the odious results of your 'thinking'. Another Slayer loose is simply another factor in the great game. It adds Chaos to the situation." Her smile widened. "And Chaos, little human, is always our greatest goal." 

Matt bowed his head. "It will be seen to." 

The blue arms waved them away and the two men left. The figures waited for them to leave and then retreated through a doorway into a different realm. The male turned his eyes toward his sister. "The Slayer is now stronger. And immortal. She will pose a problem." 

The female smiled. "There are ways and ways of dealing with her brother. We will see what happens and play the game given us." 

He scowled. "I like it not. The future is too obscure, too many possibilities." 

She laughed. "In such a myriad of possibilities lies the heart of what we seek. Chaos is never knowing the future, brother. So embrace it, and we will do what we must." 

He nodded and together they traveled on through the arching doorway with its black marble pillars.   
  


______________________________________________________________________________ 


	19. Credits,  Acknowledgments,  and The Big ...

  
  


### **Credits, Acknowledgments, and The Big Tease**

  
  


**Credits**   
  


First I'd like to do a quick credit for a few of the references and quotes in this story. This page is highly boring, feel free to skip past this section if you'd like to see my list of thank yous and/or the blatant teasers for the (possible) sequel to this story!   
  


1. "**Time cools; time clarifies; no mood can be maintained quite unaltered through the course of hours**." --Thomas Mann. I've seen this quote attributed to several different people and am unsure of its actual source. So if you feel it has been wrongly attributed, sorry!   
  


2. In several parts of In Twilight's Wake, I use other languages to identify spells and such. I am not bilingual in any shape, and may have horribly mangled the translation, as my only guides were a few dictionaries and online translators. My apologies to you if your native language took a beating somewhere in this text.   
  


3. Referenced several times throughout this story are the Star Wars trilogy of movies and various comic books. I don't own those. Someone else does. If I owned them I would be typing this story from a vibrating leather chair , chatting on the phone with Steven Spielberg while my personal chef whipped me up a Caesar salad. But alas, my chair is old and has teeth marks from my dogs, Spielberg doesn't have my number on speed-dial, and I have to go to the kitchen and make my own damn salad.   
  


4 No. I don't hate Riley or Anya. I just needed to do what I did for the sake of the story. Riley had to go for plot continuity. Anya went because the scenes were just so damn crowded with characters from both shows. I considered getting rid of a few more for simplicity's sake, but restrained myself. 

5. In part Sixteen, quotes are swiped from Shakespeare's play Henry V and from Lord Byron.   
  


6. I tried without success to find out the last names of Holland (from Wolfram & Hart) and Graham (from the initiative.) So I took a guess at Holland and didn't use Graham's. If the name is incorrect, I apologize and feel free to contact me with the correct name.   
  
  
  


**Acknowledgments**   
  


Finally, I'd like to put out huge thank you to all my readers and reviewers. They are: 

Heidi Doeing (who was kind enough to read and review every single chapter.), Danste, Cari, Aisling, Kaiya, Angela, C-Man, Stayce, Anna, Starla, Isis, Amelia, Sakana Kaioh, Harry Lime, Yvette Wolf, Cold_Water, Chicka, Jessica Skydiva, Ithica, Renebre, Sanguinary, Sloane, Kate, Annika Simpson, Jupiter, Sanguine, Angel, Pinky, Wendy, Sybelle, Kakia and all those who e-mailed me. I tried to keep all the e-mails in a folder so I could reference their senders in this thank you section, but I managed to accidentally delete them! So my apologies to all of you and my most sincere thanks! Thanks also to those who read and didn't review, even the reading is nice. Big thanks also to my Mom, who's as big a Buffy fanatic as me and let me use her as a human racquetball court to bounce ideas off of. And to Crystal, who took my constant nagging to "hurry up and read" in stride and never once decked me for being annoying, which I deserved. And last but not least to my long suffering Beta reader Laura, who helped make the final sections of this text readable.   
  


**The Big Tease**   
  


Finally here it is. The big tease. Consider this a teaser trailer for the sequel I'm considering. If you feel this shouldn't have a sequel, than let me know! If you feel it should, let me know that too! I'll probably write it no matter what, as it'll drive me crazy to have it buzzing around my brain without being put down on paper, but it's nice to hear from the people who read it anyways. :)   
  


**In the aftermath of the struggle for Balance, the two teams part company again, Angel, Cordelia, and Wesley returning to the big bad city while Buffy stays behind with her friends to guard the Hellmouth. As memories of a life she never lived began to sift into her dreams, Buffy has to choose between the strength of a vampire, or the life of a human. Xander must learn how to deal with his newfound powers and is overwhelmed when his ex-girlfriend comes around to make up. When he refuses to take back Anya, the ex-demon has some dire choices to make when she is suddenly offered another chance as a vengeance demon. **

**In LA, Angel must discover what it is the Oracles gifted him with and is determined to find the whereabouts of a newly de-chipped Spike, whose intentions are unknown. And Wolfram & Hart continue to cause trouble when they set Faith loose on the streets of LA long before the reforming Slayer is ready for life outside. **

**What is Angel's reward? Will Buffy stay human? Is Spike playing for the good guys, or will he revert to his Big Bad ways? And, of course, what is to come when Faith is given a get-out-of-jail-free card? This and more will be revealed (maybe) in . . . . the sequel to this which I haven't thought of a title for yet. Damn. That would have sounded much more impressive if I'd had a title to finish it with. **   
  


Thanks again to all! Writing this has been a true joy. ** **


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